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 Maldives and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Matthew Halsall to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Franke,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Leaves,
The Walker Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magazine,
Bill Near,
Metal Thangz,
Jandek,
F. McDonald,
Donald Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
OOIOO,
Wally Richardson,
The Mummies,
The Red Krayola,
Absolute Body Control,
The Barracudas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Interpol,
The Stooges,
Bobby Womack,
Hot Snakes,
Make Up,
EPMD,
The Pop Group,
Anakelly,
Warren Ellis,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Patti Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Mars,
Brick,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Charles Mingus,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brothers Johnson,
Glenn Branca,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nation of Ulysses,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joensuu 1685,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yellowson,
Roxy Music,
Rekid,
The Remains,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Chris Corsano,
Massinfluence,
the Human League,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.