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 Chile and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Swell Maps to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Gang Gang Dance,
Matthew Halsall,
Junior Murvin,
June of 44,
ABBA,
John Holt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chris & Cosey,
Alice Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
The Victims,
Reagan Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sam Rivers,
Main Source,
Brothers Johnson,
Blancmange,
Black Flag,
Scrapy,
Q and Not U,
Skriet,
The Tremeloes,
Kayak,
Bauhaus,
DJ Sneak,
cv313,
Lalann,
Gabor Szabo,
Camouflage,
Charles Mingus,
Inner City,
Soul II Soul,
The Dead C,
Amon Düül II,
The Fire Engines,
Index,
Swell Maps,
Fluxion,
One Last Wish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lungfish,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barbara Tucker,
kango's stein massive,
DJ Style,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Grass Roots,
Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers,
Slick Rick,
Unrelated Segments,
Newcleus,
Laurel Aitken,
Silicon Teens,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.