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 Mongolia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 Kerrie Biddell to the techno 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
Vainqueur,
Can,
Supertramp,
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Clarke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eddi Front,
John Foxx,
Index,
Massinfluence,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MDC,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Echospace,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barry Ungar,
June of 44,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
Todd Terry,
The Detroit Cobras,
MC5,
Saccharine Trust,
Rotary Connection,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lakeside,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Harry Pussy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
The Monks,
Symarip,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Pantytec,
Wally Richardson,
Dual Sessions,
Gregory Isaacs,
This Heat,
Cameo,
John Holt,
Eric Dolphy,
Marvin Gaye,
Funky Four + One,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cymande,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barbara Tucker,
Au Pairs,
The Angels of Light,
Television,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.