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 Portugal and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 Los Fastidios to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Harmonia,
Iggy Pop,
Ludus,
the Association,
Pole,
Fat Boys,
Clear Light,
Boz Scaggs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sam Rivers,
The Blues Magoos,
Lungfish,
Outsiders,
Mo-Dettes,
Darondo,
Chris & Cosey,
Organ,
cv313,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
F. McDonald,
Nik Kershaw,
Steve Hackett,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Drexciya,
Siglo XX,
Niagra,
Agitation Free,
Supertramp,
The Sonics,
The Pop Group,
Ken Boothe,
AZ,
The Saints,
Hashim,
The Moody Blues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-102,
Main Source,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Funky Four + One,
FM Einheit,
the Normal,
The Kinks,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Tremeloes,
Wally Richardson,
Tres Demented,
New Order,
DJ Style,
Babytalk,
Trumans Water,
Tears for Fears,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.