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 Malawi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
MDC,
Sandy B,
Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gap Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
The Martian,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sonics,
Alphaville,
Eric Dolphy,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moebius,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fuzztones,
H. Thieme,
In Retrospect,
Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Q and Not U,
The Doors,
Albert Ayler,
Underground Resistance,
Spoonie Gee,
The Modern Lovers,
Das Ding,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hashim,
Cheater Slicks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Radiopuhelimet,
New Age Steppers,
The Techniques,
Trumans Water,
Gong,
Mantronix,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jacob Miller,
Mars,
Michelle Simonal,
Hoover,
The Mummies,
Bush Tetras,
Minor Threat,
Cecil Taylor,
This Heat,
Barry Ungar,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fat Boys,
Moby Grape,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pagans,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.