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 Nigeria and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Sun City Girls to the techno 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Gap Band,
Gong,
Peter and Kerry,
kango's stein massive,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Divine Comedy,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
Graham Central Station,
Inner City,
Connie Case,
The Blues Magoos,
Idris Muhammad,
The Golliwogs,
Sun City Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Skarface,
Colin Newman,
Flipper,
Bob Dylan,
The Birthday Party,
Wire,
Young Marble Giants,
PIL,
The Black Dice,
The Fire Engines,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rapeman,
Half Japanese,
The Angels of Light,
Lebanon Hanover,
Animal Collective,
Loose Ends,
Henry Cow,
Simply Red,
Big Daddy Kane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yellowson,
Rekid,
Jimmy McGriff,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Clear Light,
Soft Cell,
The Busters,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Guru Guru,
Magazine,
The Fuzztones,
The Neon Judgement,
Ituana,
Electric Prunes,
ABBA,
Mantronix,
Davy DMX,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Amon Düül II,
Zero Boys,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.