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 Jordan and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Juan Atkins to the punk 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Fluxion,
Jeff Mills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Loose Ends,
Tommy Roe,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
Pussy Galore,
Nik Kershaw,
Whodini,
Byron Stingily,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers,
The Evens,
Monolake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Pretty Things,
Black Sheep,
Deakin,
Boz Scaggs,
Tom Boy,
Television,
Yellowson,
Henry Cow,
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nas,
Harmonia,
Nico,
The Selecter,
The Remains,
Schoolly D,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ohio Players,
The J.B.'s,
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Görl,
Infiniti,
DJ Sneak,
FM Einheit,
Traffic Nightmare,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.