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 Congo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fela Kuti to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Rapeman,
Deadbeat,
Gang Starr,
The Smoke,
Ice-T,
Barbara Tucker,
Sonic Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Birthday Party,
The Move,
Lee Hazlewood,
Agitation Free,
Gerry Rafferty,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oblivians,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heaven 17,
In Retrospect,
Derrick May,
Average White Band,
Nico,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Todd Rundgren,
The Evens,
World's Most,
Khruangbin,
The Doors,
Make Up,
Davy DMX,
Pierre Henry,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soul II Soul,
Tim Buckley,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stereo Dub,
Steve Hackett,
Scott Walker,
Danielle Patucci,
Erasure,
Letta Mbulu,
Lakeside,
Fad Gadget,
the Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Connie Case,
Lungfish,
Reuben Wilson,
Rosa Yemen,
Quantec,
Sister Nancy,
LL Cool J,
Lightning Bolt,
Wings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ponytail,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radiohead,
Tubeway Army,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.