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 Mongolia 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 U.S. Maple to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
The J.B.'s,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jawbox,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
Schoolly D,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Smog,
John Holt,
Crooked Eye,
Mantronix,
Gang of Four,
Black Bananas,
The Busters,
A Certain Ratio,
Wire,
Soulsonic Force,
Thee Headcoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Cybotron,
Chris & Cosey,
Ken Boothe,
Stiv Bators,
Anthony Braxton,
Model 500,
Bush Tetras,
Intrusion,
Jerry's Kids,
The Happenings,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Invisible,
Reuben Wilson,
Minor Threat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Spandau Ballet,
The Martian,
The United States of America,
Television Personalities,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crime,
The Tremeloes,
Country Teasers,
Infiniti,
Half Japanese,
Moebius,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Frankie Knuckles,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arab on Radar,
Jeff Mills,
The Angels of Light,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.