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 Mongolia and from Columbus.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Joey Negro to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Funkadelic,
The Sonics,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Babytalk,
Organ,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Supertramp,
Reuben Wilson,
Ronnie Foster,
Fluxion,
Zapp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mark Hollis,
Slave,
Cluster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cramps,
The Red Krayola,
The United States of America,
Smog,
The Slackers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joensuu 1685,
Aswad,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Moon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rites of Spring,
Isaac Hayes,
Mo-Dettes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sparks,
Subhumans,
John Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
The Blackbyrds,
Yellowson,
Rotary Connection,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Wells,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Almond,
Bob Dylan,
Urselle,
Roxy Music,
Don Cherry,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Swans,
Ohio Players,
Ornette Coleman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faust,
Symarip,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tres Demented,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Laurel Aitken,
FM Einheit,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.