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 Venezuela and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Taipei and Houston.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sonic Youth to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Aaron Thompson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Donald Byrd,
Joe Finger,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
The Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Josef K,
The Real Kids,
The Doors,
Surgeon,
ABC,
Graham Central Station,
Con Funk Shun,
The Seeds,
The Five Americans,
Arab on Radar,
The Last Poets,
X-102,
The Selecter,
Agitation Free,
Icehouse,
LL Cool J,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter and Kerry,
Terry Callier,
the Germs,
The Victims,
Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Dead Boys,
EPMD,
Newcleus,
Alice Coltrane,
Aloha Tigers,
Dawn Penn,
Soul II Soul,
Alison Limerick,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Rundgren,
The Motions,
Ponytail,
Cheater Slicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick May,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Robert Görl,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Mary Jane Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.