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 Afghanistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Evens to the grime 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Be Bop Deluxe,
June Days,
T. Rex,
Black Flag,
Roxette,
Y Pants,
The Blues Magoos,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-Ray Spex,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
Rhythm & Sound,
DJ Style,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fela Kuti,
Shoche,
Adolescents,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
the Human League,
The Techniques,
Derrick Morgan,
Outsiders,
Derrick May,
Sixth Finger,
Graham Central Station,
ABBA,
Connie Case,
Tubeway Army,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soulsonic Force,
Iggy Pop,
Nico,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dawn Penn,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young,
Marvin Gaye,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
Amazonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ten City,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
CMW,
The Fugs,
Radiohead,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Livin' Joy,
The Litter,
Massinfluence,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cameo,
Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
cv313,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.