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 Djibouti and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nils Olav to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swans,
The United States of America,
Johnny Clarke,
Surgeon,
Trumans Water,
The Gories,
Sam Rivers,
Sparks,
Bluetip,
The Doors,
Q65,
Colin Newman,
Kurtis Blow,
Scientists,
The New Christs,
Duran Duran,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Almond,
Silicon Teens,
Throbbing Gristle,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
Wasted Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Quando Quango,
The Moody Blues,
Vainqueur,
Public Enemy,
The Moleskins,
Television,
Glenn Branca,
U.S. Maple,
Tim Buckley,
The Index,
Shoche,
World's Most,
Schoolly D,
Hashim,
Rakim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Unwound,
Rotary Connection,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pussy Galore,
Bang On A Can,
Clear Light,
Eric Copeland,
Minor Threat,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Machine,
The Last Poets,
Fear,
Brick,
Tres Demented,
Goldenarms,
The Offenders,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Teasers,
Amon Düül,
The Golliwogs,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.