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 Rwanda and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Gories to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
CMW,
Newcleus,
Colin Newman,
Johnny Clarke,
In Retrospect,
Sister Nancy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hashim,
48th St. Collective,
Severed Heads,
The Selecter,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Derrick Morgan,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Starr,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
Nas,
The Smiths,
Arthur Verocai,
Morten Harket,
The Dirtbombs,
Darondo,
Minor Threat,
H. Thieme,
Urselle,
Lucky Dragons,
The Litter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faraquet,
Nirvana,
David Bowie,
Organ,
Sound Behaviour,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
Bill Near,
Amazonics,
Nico,
Chrome,
Erasure,
Subhumans,
Sandy B,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Groovy Waters,
June of 44,
Josef K,
Moebius,
The Kinks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
UT,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.