Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Montenegro and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ohio Players,
The Buckinghams,
A Certain Ratio,
Ludus,
Rod Modell,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Normal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Drexciya,
Little Man,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Misunderstood,
Lalann,
Boredoms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Albert Ayler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wings,
OOIOO,
The Music Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cybotron,
Stockholm Monsters,
Intrusion,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Altered Images,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fortunes,
The Move,
Smog,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Marine Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantytec,
Jandek,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masters at Work,
Thee Headcoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Das Ding,
The Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
the Human League,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Reagan Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeff Lynne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Severed Heads,
Cymande,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.