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 Romania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the techno 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
Kurtis Blow,
Erykah Badu,
Chris Corsano,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rapeman,
Half Japanese,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Angels of Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chrome,
Amon Düül II,
Althea and Donna,
Pantaleimon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crime,
Skarface,
F. McDonald,
Donny Hathaway,
Unwound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joy Division,
D'Angelo,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
The Last Poets,
The Human League,
Mandrill,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fugs,
The Index,
Sixth Finger,
the Association,
Unrelated Segments,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Dawn Penn,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Moon,
Minny Pops,
Kas Product,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
Warren Ellis,
Grauzone,
Juan Atkins,
The Motions,
Wire,
Harpers Bizarre,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Names,
The Young Rascals,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Neon Judgement,
The Techniques,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.