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 Macedonia and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Albert Ayler to the funk 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
John Holt,
Anthony Braxton,
Scion,
The Saints,
Chris Corsano,
Shoche,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moby Grape,
China Crisis,
Jeff Lynne,
MDC,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Misunderstood,
Sun City Girls,
Flash Fearless,
The Velvet Underground,
John Coltrane,
The Busters,
Slave,
Model 500,
UT,
The Red Krayola,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
Pere Ubu,
Lakeside,
Suburban Knight,
Aural Exciters,
Brass Construction,
Jacques Brel,
A Certain Ratio,
Stiv Bators,
Neu!,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
Kayak,
Brick,
R.M.O.,
Icehouse,
The Gap Band,
Boredoms,
Marvin Gaye,
Crash Course in Science,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Technova,
Carl Craig,
Skaos,
Laurel Aitken,
Arthur Verocai,
PIL,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.