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 Slovakia and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Motorama,
Malaria!,
Graham Central Station,
The New Christs,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Shadows of Knight,
Index,
Banda Bassotti,
Darondo,
Eve St. Jones,
Little Man,
Lakeside,
Massinfluence,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hashim,
The Black Dice,
In Retrospect,
The Last Poets,
Laurel Aitken,
Todd Rundgren,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Vogues,
Chrome,
Brick,
John Lydon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Sheep,
Amazonics,
Boredoms,
Albert Ayler,
Depeche Mode,
Icehouse,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rekid,
The Doors,
MC5,
Yusef Lateef,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Judy Mowatt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye,
R.M.O.,
Loose Ends,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes,
Slave,
10cc,
Rhythm & Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Aswad,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.