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 Belarus and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Associates to the grime 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Yellowson,
MDC,
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick Morgan,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Almond,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
Ponytail,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
AZ,
The Standells,
The New Christs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
Black Sheep,
Harry Pussy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alison Limerick,
EPMD,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Second Layer,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barbara Tucker,
Blake Baxter,
Tom Boy,
The Dead C,
Hoover,
Traffic Nightmare,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barrington Levy,
Terry Callier,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
DNA,
John Foxx,
the Slits,
X-101,
The Divine Comedy,
Darondo,
Tears for Fears,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick May,
Rhythm & Sound,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Nils Olav,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rod Modell,
The Cure,
The Sound,
Adolescents,
Fluxion,
Mars,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.