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 New Zealand and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Boredoms to the techno 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Matthew Halsall,
Barclay James Harvest,
Slave,
Unrelated Segments,
Slick Rick,
Technova,
Niagra,
The Moleskins,
Gong,
the Bar-Kays,
Au Pairs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cheater Slicks,
Stereo Dub,
Audionom,
Joyce Sims,
The Slackers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Janne Schatter,
Bad Manners,
Hashim,
Wire,
Todd Terry,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Drexciya,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eli Mardock,
Thee Headcoats,
Dorothy Ashby,
Los Fastidios,
Eddi Front,
Magazine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lyres,
Symarip,
The Dead C,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dual Sessions,
Minutemen,
Blake Baxter,
Goldenarms,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Darondo,
Wasted Youth,
Marmalade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Albert Ayler,
kango's stein massive,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swans,
Q65,
Cluster,
ABC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tim Buckley,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.