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 Azerbaijan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Cecil Taylor to the punk 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Mantronix,
John Cale,
Mo-Dettes,
The Invisible,
H. Thieme,
Country Teasers,
The Busters,
Jandek,
Theoretical Girls,
Nas,
Mark Hollis,
Angry Samoans,
The Mojo Men,
The Monks,
Intrusion,
Aaron Thompson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Pus,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
Heaven 17,
Stiv Bators,
Supertramp,
Adolescents,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amon Düül II,
Mars,
Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
Grauzone,
the Human League,
Bauhaus,
The Angels of Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joey Negro,
The Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Metal Thangz,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harmonia,
Eden Ahbez,
Public Enemy,
K-Klass,
Neu!,
Qualms,
Mandrill,
Malaria!,
Stereo Dub,
The Grass Roots,
Kas Product,
Soul Sonic Force,
U.S. Maple,
The Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reuben Wilson,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.