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 Eritrea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the disco 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
La Düsseldorf,
Reagan Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
In Retrospect,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sällskapet,
The Five Americans,
Second Layer,
The Divine Comedy,
Susan Cadogan,
the Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
Deakin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cal Tjader,
Kerri Chandler,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Moon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Oneida,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
PIL,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nation of Ulysses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Red Krayola,
Barrington Levy,
The Blues Magoos,
the Germs,
Desert Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Technova,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Donald Byrd,
Yusef Lateef,
Gichy Dan,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nico,
KRS-One,
Interpol,
Das Ding,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Smoke,
the Normal,
Crooked Eye,
Visage,
Derrick Morgan,
Pole,
The Techniques,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Görl,
Sonic Youth,
Lungfish,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.