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 Korea North and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Colin Newman to the rock 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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?
Wasted Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sällskapet,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Modern Lovers,
Scott Walker,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barry Ungar,
Joey Negro,
The Standells,
Eric Dolphy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soulsonic Force,
Au Pairs,
Metal Thangz,
Magazine,
Fluxion,
The Cure,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Howard Jones,
Faust,
Section 25,
Bush Tetras,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Names,
The Misunderstood,
Youth Brigade,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pretty Things,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siglo XX,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Real Kids,
Minny Pops,
ABBA,
The Moleskins,
10cc,
Kayak,
Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
Toni Rubio,
Main Source,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Dead Boys,
Pantaleimon,
E-Dancer,
Underground Resistance,
CMW,
Thee Headcoats,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jeff Mills,
Pierre Henry,
Porter Ricks,
Yazoo,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.