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 Oman and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Panda Bear to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Das Ding,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Sherman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marmalade,
Iggy Pop,
Rod Modell,
ABBA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Electric Prunes,
Slick Rick,
John Foxx,
The Sound,
Depeche Mode,
Surgeon,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fugazi,
Absolute Body Control,
Marine Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Ken Boothe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sällskapet,
Section 25,
The Moleskins,
Marvin Gaye,
UT,
Heaven 17,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sugar Minott,
Sun Ra,
Eli Mardock,
The American Breed,
David Bowie,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pussy Galore,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jawbox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultravox,
Unwound,
PIL,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacques Brel,
Junior Murvin,
Toni Rubio,
Bang On A Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
Lower 48,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.