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 Tanzania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator 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 Magma to the crunk 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Urselle,
Peter and Kerry,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cymande,
Accadde A,
Alison Limerick,
Lakeside,
Pulsallama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
Lyres,
Jawbox,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Hill,
The Music Machine,
Marc Almond,
Leonard Cohen,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
Drexciya,
Mad Mike,
Heaven 17,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Organ,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T. Rex,
Harry Pussy,
World's Most,
Unwound,
The Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
a-ha,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare,
Robert Hood,
Stetsasonic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lindisfarne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Khruangbin,
The Monochrome Set,
Cluster,
Zapp,
Henry Cow,
Flipper,
Graham Central Station,
The Fugs,
The J.B.'s,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.