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 Kazakhstan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Todd Rundgren to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Accadde A,
June of 44,
The Names,
Howard Jones,
The Zeros,
The Techniques,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bill Wells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Knickerbockers,
Pagans,
Quadrant,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fugs,
K-Klass,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Underground Resistance,
Gang Green,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sex Pistols,
Cymande,
New Age Steppers,
Shuggie Otis,
Thompson Twins,
Echospace,
Leonard Cohen,
Inner City,
Loose Ends,
Man Eating Sloth,
Altered Images,
Masters at Work,
Morten Harket,
Simply Red,
The Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bauhaus,
Agitation Free,
Skaos,
Soft Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Section 25,
The Human League,
Ultravox,
AZ,
Magma,
China Crisis,
Dual Sessions,
The Angels of Light,
Bush Tetras,
Animal Collective,
H. Thieme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Adolescents,
Duran Duran,
Cybotron,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.