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 Guinea and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 cv313 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The United States of America,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Godley & Creme,
Harpers Bizarre,
June of 44,
The Count Five,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Raincoats,
Dual Sessions,
Youth Brigade,
Ronan,
New Order,
The Residents,
Au Pairs,
Donny Hathaway,
KRS-One,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lungfish,
Morten Harket,
Parry Music,
Bootsy Collins,
ABC,
Nik Kershaw,
Idris Muhammad,
Kerri Chandler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Seeds,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Normal,
The Monks,
Janne Schatter,
Derrick May,
Barbara Tucker,
Tommy Roe,
Marmalade,
Dawn Penn,
Rites of Spring,
Crispy Ambulance,
Juan Atkins,
Archie Shepp,
Tres Demented,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Robert Wyatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Althea and Donna,
Ituana,
Darondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Surgeon,
Monks,
Arthur Verocai,
The Leaves,
Zero Boys,
Yaz,
Sixth Finger,
Sun Ra,
Bang On A Can,
Pussy Galore,
Talk Talk,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.