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 Belarus and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Remains,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Circle Jerks,
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
JFA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
Alphaville,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gun Club,
David McCallum,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
Malaria!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Q and Not U,
The Smiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Toasters,
Pagans,
KRS-One,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Soft Machine,
Aswad,
Pulsallama,
Loose Ends,
X-101,
Quantec,
Scientists,
Grauzone,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Saints,
the Germs,
Brothers Johnson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Agitation Free,
Parry Music,
Lou Christie,
Fugazi,
Gregory Isaacs,
Al Stewart,
Jacob Miller,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Morten Harket,
Magma,
Simply Red,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rod Modell,
Bang On A Can,
The Names,
Joe Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.