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 Seychelles and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Names to the jazz 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The New Christs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Young Marble Giants,
Scratch Acid,
L. Decosne,
Gil Scott Heron,
MC5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tropical Tobacco,
James Chance & The Contortions,
U.S. Maple,
Funky Four + One,
Franke,
The Techniques,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Sarah Menescal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Music Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Eating Sloth,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
The Motions,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roxy Music,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Don Cherry,
Pere Ubu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thompson Twins,
F. McDonald,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Public Enemy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Graham Central Station,
X-101,
OOIOO,
Howard Jones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mission of Burma,
David McCallum,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Vogues,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mad Mike,
Hardrive,
The Wake,
Faust,
Crispian St. Peters,
Television,
Deepchord,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tom Boy,
Scientists,
Oneida,
Pierre Henry,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.