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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Last Poets to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Royal Trux,
Liliput,
Adolescents,
Severed Heads,
JFA,
Bobby Womack,
Essential Logic,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronnie Foster,
Make Up,
Second Layer,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Throbbing Gristle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sarah Menescal,
Scrapy,
Mark Hollis,
Ohio Players,
Maleditus Sound,
the Association,
Quadrant,
Animal Collective,
Guru Guru,
Joyce Sims,
Goldenarms,
Smog,
the Soft Cell,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Los Fastidios,
Malaria!,
Derrick Morgan,
Barbara Tucker,
Public Enemy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moss Icon,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed,
The Young Rascals,
The Neon Judgement,
Laurel Aitken,
Little Man,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Shoche,
Eric Dolphy,
Harmonia,
Underground Resistance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Byron Stingily,
The Modern Lovers,
Harry Pussy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.