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 Ukraine and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 K-Klass to the electroclash 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Pussy Galore,
The Kinks,
Bang On A Can,
Trumans Water,
Das Ding,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Animal Collective,
Interpol,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kerri Chandler,
Todd Rundgren,
The Music Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
MDC,
Heaven 17,
Underground Resistance,
Scientists,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mummies,
The American Breed,
Quadrant,
The Stooges,
Black Moon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cowsills,
Model 500,
Brand Nubian,
Spandau Ballet,
Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare,
Gang Green,
Tim Buckley,
Accadde A,
The Buckinghams,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aural Exciters,
Whodini,
Ultravox,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alton Ellis,
Kas Product,
Black Pus,
Moebius,
Aloha Tigers,
Urselle,
The Dave Clark Five,
Section 25,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.