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 Niger and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anthony Braxton 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Swell Maps,
Dawn Penn,
The Grass Roots,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terry Callier,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra,
The Seeds,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
OOIOO,
Pantytec,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris Corsano,
Unrelated Segments,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brass Construction,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Invisible,
Newcleus,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Wells,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
These Immortal Souls,
Bush Tetras,
Roxette,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Flag,
Charles Mingus,
The Vogues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Maleditus Sound,
The Pretty Things,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Second Layer,
Quando Quango,
Cymande,
John Foxx,
The Durutti Column,
Royal Trux,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Funkadelic,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chrome,
Soft Machine,
Don Cherry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lightning Bolt,
Monks,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.