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 Manchester.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 David Bowie 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 Arcadia to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nils Olav,
Gang Starr,
Stetsasonic,
OOIOO,
AZ,
Barbara Tucker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eden Ahbez,
the Association,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Pus,
Sällskapet,
Crime,
Hasil Adkins,
Mars,
Terry Callier,
X-101,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brick,
K-Klass,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eli Mardock,
The Fortunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Durutti Column,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Excepter,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dirtbombs,
Bauhaus,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
Wally Richardson,
the Sonics,
The Smiths,
Dawn Penn,
Porter Ricks,
Pantytec,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Schoolly D,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Real Kids,
Blancmange,
H. Thieme,
Country Teasers,
Sonic Youth,
Khruangbin,
The Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radiopuhelimet,
Letta Mbulu,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric Copeland,
Maurizio,
Hashim,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.