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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Marcia Griffiths to the techno 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
New York Dolls,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pantytec,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nirvana,
Boredoms,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eurythmics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T. Rex,
The Last Poets,
Donald Byrd,
Alison Limerick,
Ice-T,
Bluetip,
Slick Rick,
Wire,
Thee Headcoats,
Kevin Saunderson,
kango's stein massive,
The Human League,
X-101,
Marvin Gaye,
Nick Fraelich,
MC5,
Suburban Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Görl,
Pere Ubu,
Reagan Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Negative Approach,
China Crisis,
Anthony Braxton,
Trumans Water,
Minny Pops,
Cal Tjader,
The Star Department,
Chrome,
The Divine Comedy,
Soft Machine,
Intrusion,
Aloha Tigers,
Loose Ends,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lightning Bolt,
The Victims,
Matthew Bourne,
Section 25,
Livin' Joy,
Connie Case,
The Pretty Things,
The Birthday Party,
Patti Smith,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.