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 Saudi Arabia and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ 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 Swans to the grime 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
Scientists,
The J.B.'s,
Crime,
T. Rex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Velvet Underground,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Porter Ricks,
Ponytail,
The Saints,
The Music Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joensuu 1685,
Pantaleimon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Carl Craig,
Cybotron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nirvana,
The Misunderstood,
Whodini,
Television,
Black Bananas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Divine Comedy,
The Young Rascals,
The Moody Blues,
Hardrive,
Sandy B,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dead C,
Altered Images,
The Selecter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantytec,
The Monochrome Set,
Crash Course in Science,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dennis Brown,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cowsills,
Gang Starr,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ludus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Main Source,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.