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 Tehran.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Von Mondo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Television,
David McCallum,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
Agitation Free,
Deadbeat,
The Pop Group,
Warren Ellis,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camouflage,
Guru Guru,
The Knickerbockers,
Carl Craig,
X-Ray Spex,
The Stooges,
The Fire Engines,
John Holt,
Eddi Front,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bad Manners,
Letta Mbulu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The J.B.'s,
World's Most,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABC,
Roy Ayers,
Dennis Brown,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dead C,
Y Pants,
The American Breed,
The Vogues,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lyres,
Mandrill,
Surgeon,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacques Brel,
Maurizio,
the Swans,
Terry Callier,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
Arthur Verocai,
Magazine,
Dave Gahan,
Ituana,
Eric Dolphy,
Trumans Water,
Adolescents,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sixth Finger,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.