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 Montenegro and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mad Mike to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Robert Görl,
The Dead C,
Shuggie Otis,
The Moleskins,
Cymande,
Morten Harket,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smoke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Move,
Gang of Four,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
Jerry's Kids,
LL Cool J,
The J.B.'s,
Metal Thangz,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Halsall,
Alice Coltrane,
Quadrant,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
Joey Negro,
One Last Wish,
The Star Department,
Procol Harum,
Second Layer,
Joe Smooth,
Camouflage,
Pussy Galore,
Whodini,
Matthew Bourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Japan,
Audionom,
Iggy Pop,
Joy Division,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pretty Things,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brick,
Sixth Finger,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick May,
Model 500,
Infiniti,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kevin Saunderson,
10cc,
Tres Demented,
Sandy B,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.