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 Senegal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Terrestrial Tones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Soft Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Basic Channel,
Barbara Tucker,
Fugazi,
The Count Five,
The Residents,
ABBA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Wells,
The Index,
The Searchers,
Bauhaus,
Stetsasonic,
The Pretty Things,
The Gladiators,
Harmonia,
The Standells,
DNA,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Mandrill,
Organ,
Swell Maps,
Eddi Front,
Peter and Kerry,
DJ Sneak,
Radio Birdman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Clear Light,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cameo,
Dark Day,
Reagan Youth,
Scott Walker,
the Germs,
Joensuu 1685,
Henry Cow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Matthew Bourne,
Khruangbin,
Magazine,
Amon Düül II,
Magma,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tubeway Army,
Angry Samoans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skarface,
Moss Icon,
Stereo Dub,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang of Four,
a-ha,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.