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 Greece and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Cabaret Voltaire to the grime 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Byron Stingily,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blossom Toes,
the Bar-Kays,
the Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Parrish,
Oneida,
Minutemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Saints,
Stetsasonic,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Buckinghams,
Derrick Morgan,
Siglo XX,
Infiniti,
The Count Five,
Susan Cadogan,
Stereo Dub,
Pantytec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fall,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mojo Men,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mr. Review,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Interpol,
Suicide,
Gang of Four,
Pantaleimon,
K-Klass,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kerri Chandler,
The J.B.'s,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Moss Icon,
The Electric Prunes,
the Association,
Index,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
The Blackbyrds,
Pere Ubu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.