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 Venezuela and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Alice Coltrane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Certain Ratio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Altered Images,
The Five Americans,
The Last Poets,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gories,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
Skaos,
Fela Kuti,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Adolescents,
The Motions,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Hood,
Model 500,
Anthony Braxton,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Morten Harket,
The Barracudas,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shuggie Otis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Circle Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
Nas,
Bauhaus,
cv313,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Görl,
Man Eating Sloth,
Massinfluence,
Lindisfarne,
The Remains,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sixth Finger,
Popol Vuh,
The Cure,
Ronan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Technova,
The Birthday Party,
Minor Threat,
Ludus,
Eric B and Rakim,
In Retrospect,
B.T. Express,
Jacques Brel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.