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 Chile and from Sao Paulo.
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 Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Bill Near to the techno 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Doors,
John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
MC5,
Rakim,
Jacob Miller,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oneida,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monks,
Delon & Dalcan,
The United States of America,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mission of Burma,
Schoolly D,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slackers,
The Golliwogs,
The Remains,
Funky Four + One,
Grandmaster Flash,
Susan Cadogan,
Agitation Free,
10cc,
Joy Division,
Joe Smooth,
Kayak,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flamin' Groovies,
Motorama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sister Nancy,
Q and Not U,
Roy Ayers,
The Invisible,
Fugazi,
Sandy B,
Barclay James Harvest,
Marvin Gaye,
Faraquet,
Chrome,
Fluxion,
Magazine,
Skarface,
Michelle Simonal,
L. Decosne,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sound,
Lyres,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scientists,
Yusef Lateef,
The Residents,
Derrick Morgan,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.