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 Lesotho and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Deadbeat to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Second Layer,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Angels of Light,
X-101,
Aswad,
PIL,
the Fania All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Freddie Wadling,
Half Japanese,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skriet,
T. Rex,
Patti Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Ronan,
Newcleus,
Dark Day,
Soft Cell,
Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Chris Corsano,
Zapp,
Eli Mardock,
Mr. Review,
Wolf Eyes,
FM Einheit,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vainqueur,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Absolute Body Control,
Mad Mike,
JFA,
Soulsonic Force,
MDC,
World's Most,
Minor Threat,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Animal Collective,
Gichy Dan,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Toni Rubio,
Wire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Audionom,
Barbara Tucker,
Pole,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
Japan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barrington Levy,
Skarface,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.