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 Swaziland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Golliwogs,
Brick,
Television,
Ultimate Spinach,
KRS-One,
Jandek,
Mandrill,
Faraquet,
Nas,
Little Man,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mars,
Ten City,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
China Crisis,
Radio Birdman,
Peter and Kerry,
The Birthday Party,
Mark Hollis,
Das Ding,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sparks,
Lakeside,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Infiniti,
Suicide,
the Germs,
Surgeon,
Bang On A Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Guru Guru,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Subhumans,
The Selecter,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
A Certain Ratio,
Flipper,
Brothers Johnson,
Ronan,
the Association,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Malaria!,
Newcleus,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Simply Red,
T. Rex,
Circle Jerks,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.