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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Boredoms to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Bar-Kays,
The American Breed,
Susan Cadogan,
The Angels of Light,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Inner City,
Can,
The Move,
Danielle Patucci,
Bauhaus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
Harpers Bizarre,
One Last Wish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nas,
Franke,
Soft Machine,
Clear Light,
Arab on Radar,
The Monochrome Set,
Cheater Slicks,
Fela Kuti,
Theoretical Girls,
Rakim,
Surgeon,
The Smoke,
Y Pants,
Charles Mingus,
Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
Althea and Donna,
Delta 5,
Fluxion,
The Martian,
The Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
Buzzcocks,
The Gun Club,
Public Enemy,
Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Pharoah Sanders,
CMW,
Crash Course in Science,
In Retrospect,
Ice-T,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fuzztones,
Warsaw,
the Association,
Faust,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.