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 United Kingdom and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 the Association to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord 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 mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
Buzzcocks,
The Leaves,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharoah Sanders,
Duran Duran,
T.S.O.L.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Bar-Kays,
The Stooges,
The Sonics,
Black Pus,
Yellowson,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Evens,
Deadbeat,
Amon Düül,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alton Ellis,
Matthew Bourne,
Audionom,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Gang Dance,
Radiohead,
Zapp,
James White and The Blacks,
CMW,
Smog,
Oblivians,
Pole,
Grauzone,
Agent Orange,
R.M.O.,
Niagra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alison Limerick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Christie,
Jacques Brel,
Graham Central Station,
The Martian,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Motorama,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultimate Spinach,
D'Angelo,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Barracudas,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rites of Spring,
U.S. Maple,
The Monks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.