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 Luxembourg and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the rock 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Joe Smooth,
Loose Ends,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
R.M.O.,
Buzzcocks,
Sam Rivers,
Moss Icon,
Pagans,
Procol Harum,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yazoo,
The Kinks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Toasters,
Con Funk Shun,
Groovy Waters,
Crispy Ambulance,
FM Einheit,
China Crisis,
Peter & Gordon,
Malaria!,
The Gladiators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Reuben Wilson,
Deakin,
The Fugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deadbeat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ralphi Rosario,
Masters at Work,
Bang On A Can,
Nico,
Susan Cadogan,
Bill Wells,
Altered Images,
Camouflage,
Metal Thangz,
Royal Trux,
Fatback Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Dead Boys,
Scott Walker,
Hasil Adkins,
Faust,
Wire,
Scan 7,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul II Soul,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Newcleus,
cv313,
Little Man,
CMW,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barry Ungar,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.