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 Gambia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord 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 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Durutti Column,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hardrive,
Colin Newman,
The Cure,
Sandy B,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
Zero Boys,
The Five Americans,
Brand Nubian,
Pere Ubu,
The Neon Judgement,
Sly & The Family Stone,
H. Thieme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Blossom Toes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ice-T,
Cluster,
Vladislav Delay,
Parry Music,
Spoonie Gee,
Hashim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Das Ding,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deakin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alton Ellis,
Youth Brigade,
Massinfluence,
Robert Hood,
Joensuu 1685,
Marine Girls,
Underground Resistance,
Skriet,
Lou Reed,
Minnie Riperton,
The Human League,
Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Roger Hodgson,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
Sugar Minott,
Flash Fearless,
Michelle Simonal,
Mars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Remains,
Marvin Gaye,
Brass Construction,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Zeros,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.