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 San Marino and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 Lalo Schifrin to the punk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims 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?
The Smiths,
Swans,
Monks,
Drexciya,
Surgeon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grey Daturas,
Moebius,
Crime,
KRS-One,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
The Black Dice,
H. Thieme,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Divine Comedy,
Camouflage,
Andrew Hill,
James White and The Blacks,
ABC,
X-101,
Fear,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doors,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Iggy Pop,
Graham Central Station,
Barry Ungar,
The Offenders,
Outsiders,
Carl Craig,
Jacob Miller,
Urselle,
The Zeros,
Nils Olav,
Cluster,
Pylon,
Crispian St. Peters,
These Immortal Souls,
Pantaleimon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ponytail,
Skarface,
Gang Starr,
Inner City,
World's Most,
Spoonie Gee,
Clear Light,
The Pop Group,
Warsaw,
The Last Poets,
Derrick May,
Con Funk Shun,
Mad Mike,
Public Enemy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Porter Ricks,
Amon Düül II,
Donald Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
Chris Corsano,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.