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 Colombia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Sam Rivers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Con Funk Shun,
Joy Division,
Section 25,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eddi Front,
Susan Cadogan,
Bush Tetras,
Rod Modell,
Underground Resistance,
Leonard Cohen,
Suicide,
Ice-T,
Ronnie Foster,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Move,
Eric Dolphy,
Banda Bassotti,
John Cale,
Soft Machine,
Henry Cow,
The Cowsills,
David Bowie,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Matthew Bourne,
Brand Nubian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tomorrow,
Television,
Aaron Thompson,
Little Man,
James White and The Blacks,
The United States of America,
Suburban Knight,
Warren Ellis,
The Moleskins,
the Association,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boogie Down Productions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pagans,
Lyres,
Can,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skaos,
Technova,
Graham Central Station,
Half Japanese,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Man Parrish,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
Quando Quango,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Five Americans,
The Fugs,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.