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 Uzbekistan and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Magma 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Neu!,
Lakeside,
Franke,
Stiv Bators,
The Remains,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Josef K,
The American Breed,
Lebanon Hanover,
Japan,
Make Up,
Crooked Eye,
The Blackbyrds,
The Golliwogs,
The Sonics,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fad Gadget,
The Modern Lovers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Invisible,
Malaria!,
Cecil Taylor,
World's Most,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Warren Ellis,
June of 44,
Judy Mowatt,
Thee Headcoats,
The Litter,
Agent Orange,
Gong,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Idris Muhammad,
Eli Mardock,
Pere Ubu,
Massinfluence,
Amon Düül II,
Jeff Lynne,
The Monks,
Bush Tetras,
Skriet,
Accadde A,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wings,
Prince Buster,
Davy DMX,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Martian,
Man Parrish,
Crash Course in Science,
Crispian St. Peters,
Motorama,
Hardrive,
New Age Steppers,
Von Mondo,
Archie Shepp,
Tubeway Army,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.