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 Rwanda and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 These Immortal Souls to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Angry Samoans,
Glenn Branca,
Spandau Ballet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Knickerbockers,
Cameo,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Wells,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
Jawbox,
Man Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
World's Most,
K-Klass,
Nico,
Ten City,
Mandrill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Leaves,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
China Crisis,
Altered Images,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jerry's Kids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Swans,
DJ Sneak,
The Electric Prunes,
Arcadia,
The Cowsills,
Hoover,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scion,
The Misunderstood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barrington Levy,
New Age Steppers,
Soul II Soul,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pierre Henry,
Fluxion,
The Red Krayola,
The Modern Lovers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Skaos,
Marine Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
E-Dancer,
Country Teasers,
Steve Hackett,
Henry Cow,
Lakeside,
Camberwell Now,
the Soft Cell,
Black Sheep,
Ohio Players,
Sandy B,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harmonia,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.