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 Malawi and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bill Near to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Tom Boy,
48th St. Collective,
Joyce Sims,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
L. Decosne,
Fela Kuti,
The Wake,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ludus,
Altered Images,
Kenny Larkin,
Alton Ellis,
The Slits,
Lower 48,
Leonard Cohen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crime,
Jandek,
Matthew Bourne,
Graham Central Station,
Unwound,
Urselle,
The Evens,
the Soft Cell,
Chris & Cosey,
Lakeside,
John Cale,
Main Source,
Erasure,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Golliwogs,
Dave Gahan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Tremeloes,
Panda Bear,
Saccharine Trust,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Easy Going,
Crispy Ambulance,
Carl Craig,
Loose Ends,
Yellowson,
The Blues Magoos,
Babytalk,
Surgeon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lucky Dragons,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.