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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Young Marble Giants to the funk 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Kaleidoscope,
The Remains,
Clear Light,
Crash Course in Science,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Black Dice,
Zero Boys,
Moebius,
Aaron Thompson,
Hasil Adkins,
Yaz,
Khruangbin,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Slits,
Chris & Cosey,
Josef K,
Jeff Mills,
Inner City,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
The Vogues,
Yazoo,
Dark Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang of Four,
T. Rex,
Minny Pops,
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Arab on Radar,
Interpol,
The Mojo Men,
Johnny Clarke,
Pierre Henry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Almond,
Juan Atkins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Smoke,
Matthew Halsall,
John Lydon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radio Birdman,
Hoover,
June of 44,
Cal Tjader,
Kas Product,
Saccharine Trust,
Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
Second Layer,
Nirvana,
Soft Machine,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.