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 Lithuania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Yellowson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Masters at Work,
10cc,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
World's Most,
Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Japan,
Bill Wells,
Roger Hodgson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pretty Things,
Scratch Acid,
Agent Orange,
Simply Red,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra,
Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nico,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Trojans,
Ornette Coleman,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Black Dice,
X-102,
The Invisible,
Cameo,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Arthur Verocai,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Smooth,
Scrapy,
Ice-T,
E-Dancer,
Marshall Jefferson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eurythmics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hashim,
Thee Headcoats,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camberwell Now,
Eric Dolphy,
Angry Samoans,
Kurtis Blow,
The Index,
The Dirtbombs,
Mars,
DJ Style,
Lou Christie,
The Skatalites,
Chris & Cosey,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.