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 Switzerland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lungfish to the dance 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
KRS-One,
Theoretical Girls,
The Leaves,
Panda Bear,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Technova,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Prunes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Harpers Bizarre,
Qualms,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Busters,
Donny Hathaway,
Al Stewart,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Index,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
Connie Case,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABBA,
Gang Starr,
Ronnie Foster,
Henry Cow,
June Days,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
David Bowie,
Letta Mbulu,
Franke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nation of Ulysses,
Chris Corsano,
the Slits,
Grey Daturas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kaleidoscope,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Slackers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Warren Ellis,
Inner City,
The Gap Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Hot Snakes,
Brass Construction,
Anthony Braxton,
Loose Ends,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.