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 Nauru and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Freddie Wadling to the grunge 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Misunderstood,
Tim Buckley,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tears for Fears,
Inner City,
Mission of Burma,
The Last Poets,
Altered Images,
Skriet,
FM Einheit,
Little Man,
Darondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Near,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Agitation Free,
Eric Copeland,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brick,
Amazonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lee Hazlewood,
New Order,
Mars,
Urselle,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Babytalk,
The Pop Group,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare,
The Names,
The Alarm Clocks,
H. Thieme,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cramps,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
Mandrill,
Funky Four + One,
The Move,
Bob Dylan,
Deakin,
Max Romeo,
Black Moon,
Unrelated Segments,
Swell Maps,
Leonard Cohen,
Aswad,
Zapp,
The Fugs,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick May,
Gang of Four,
Sex Pistols,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.