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 Kenya and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rock 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Sister Nancy,
Charles Mingus,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-102,
Neil Young,
the Swans,
Pet Shop Boys,
David Bowie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bob Dylan,
Model 500,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Cale,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Robert Wyatt,
Deakin,
Magazine,
T.S.O.L.,
Trumans Water,
The Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Symarip,
Lou Christie,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rites of Spring,
The Durutti Column,
Laurel Aitken,
The Trojans,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Cal Tjader,
The Pretty Things,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skriet,
The Modern Lovers,
Erasure,
Soul II Soul,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Bar-Kays,
Curtis Mayfield,
David McCallum,
Stereo Dub,
Godley & Creme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Music Machine,
Tears for Fears,
The Cure,
Radio Birdman,
Motorama,
Josef K,
Tres Demented,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sixth Finger,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.