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 Malta and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Laurel Aitken to the techno 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
The Litter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Altered Images,
Pantytec,
The Busters,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Lyres,
Unrelated Segments,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gladiators,
La Düsseldorf,
One Last Wish,
Main Source,
Silicon Teens,
Echospace,
Mars,
The Slackers,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Niagra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Sonics,
Blancmange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swell Maps,
AZ,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
June of 44,
Skriet,
Scientists,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siglo XX,
Oneida,
Roxy Music,
The Real Kids,
Liliput,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rapeman,
Supertramp,
Metal Thangz,
a-ha,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Glenn Branca,
Excepter,
Qualms,
Marmalade,
Amazonics,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.