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 Iceland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Pus,
The Offenders,
Lucky Dragons,
Thompson Twins,
The Fuzztones,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Sherman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lower 48,
Visage,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Buckinghams,
the Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quando Quango,
Alison Limerick,
Soulsonic Force,
Deakin,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra,
Rakim,
Section 25,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
Scrapy,
U.S. Maple,
Kaleidoscope,
Juan Atkins,
This Heat,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harmonia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chrome,
Echospace,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-102,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quantec,
Television,
Joe Finger,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
PIL,
Amon Düül,
Robert Hood,
The Gap Band,
Joy Division,
Todd Terry,
New Order,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.