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 Honduras and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rap 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
T. Rex,
Audionom,
Buzzcocks,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Hood,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Sherman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blake Baxter,
Delta 5,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
Saccharine Trust,
Ponytail,
Cheater Slicks,
Franke,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Altered Images,
Arcadia,
Bronski Beat,
Colin Newman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blossom Toes,
Drexciya,
Newcleus,
Letta Mbulu,
Lindisfarne,
The Associates,
Bluetip,
Minutemen,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marvin Gaye,
the Germs,
Essential Logic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tom Boy,
Ituana,
The Techniques,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronan,
Deakin,
Radio Birdman,
Absolute Body Control,
Surgeon,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
Babytalk,
Can,
Section 25,
Camouflage,
The Gun Club,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.