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 Zambia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lyres to the rap 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Q65,
Nico,
Minny Pops,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gun Club,
Sound Behaviour,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bob Dylan,
FM Einheit,
T.S.O.L.,
Albert Ayler,
Eric Dolphy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sugar Minott,
ABC,
Desert Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Country Teasers,
Henry Cow,
L. Decosne,
10cc,
The Golliwogs,
Depeche Mode,
Glenn Branca,
Make Up,
Fugazi,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
La Düsseldorf,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dead C,
Gang of Four,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minor Threat,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tommy Roe,
Lyres,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
Byron Stingily,
Anakelly,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pere Ubu,
Yaz,
Cheater Slicks,
Rekid,
Swans,
The Raincoats,
Magazine,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.