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 China and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 New Order to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Fear,
Judy Mowatt,
The Star Department,
Peter and Kerry,
Livin' Joy,
Alice Coltrane,
Unrelated Segments,
Thee Headcoats,
Pussy Galore,
Monolake,
Procol Harum,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Japan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marcia Griffiths,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Interpol,
The Human League,
Amazonics,
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Hood,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Newcleus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rufus Thomas,
Tubeway Army,
Bush Tetras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wally Richardson,
Khruangbin,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Althea and Donna,
Lakeside,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Underground Resistance,
the Association,
Marine Girls,
Yazoo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scion,
Joey Negro,
Flash Fearless,
The Wake,
T.S.O.L.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dark Day,
The Martian,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brothers Johnson,
Barbara Tucker,
Warren Ellis,
Goldenarms,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.