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-Bissau 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Reuben Wilson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Gong,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Donny Hathaway,
The Selecter,
Adolescents,
Morten Harket,
Eric Copeland,
The Raincoats,
Boredoms,
Maleditus Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alice Coltrane,
Toni Rubio,
Soul II Soul,
Absolute Body Control,
The Angels of Light,
World's Most,
Monolake,
Jacob Miller,
Soulsonic Force,
New Age Steppers,
Scion,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Hood,
Wings,
Make Up,
The Mummies,
The United States of America,
Second Layer,
Khruangbin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
Talk Talk,
June of 44,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
Lalo Schifrin,
Guru Guru,
R.M.O.,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Residents,
The New Christs,
T. Rex,
Bobby Byrd,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wire,
The Neon Judgement,
Joe Finger,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.