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 Guyana and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Rekid to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Quadrant,
Average White Band,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dirtbombs,
Echospace,
Joyce Sims,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Happenings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultravox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Holt,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
Smog,
Amazonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Simply Red,
Barry Ungar,
the Human League,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Görl,
The Motions,
Connie Case,
Young Marble Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
Freddie Wadling,
Urselle,
Wasted Youth,
Easy Going,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Henry Cow,
Fear,
Albert Ayler,
Excepter,
EPMD,
U.S. Maple,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun Ra,
Eric Copeland,
Brass Construction,
Boogie Down Productions,
Model 500,
Maurizio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Make Up,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mummies,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.