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 Guatemala and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ronnie Foster,
Mark Hollis,
Chris & Cosey,
Joy Division,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Livin' Joy,
Adolescents,
Hasil Adkins,
EPMD,
Vladislav Delay,
X-Ray Spex,
Toni Rubio,
Youth Brigade,
Rosa Yemen,
Pantaleimon,
The Litter,
Aswad,
Qualms,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rekid,
Talk Talk,
The Slackers,
Marvin Gaye,
Buzzcocks,
the Swans,
David Bowie,
Ken Boothe,
Drexciya,
Zapp,
Henry Cow,
Skaos,
Second Layer,
Dave Gahan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Underground Resistance,
R.M.O.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Count Five,
Don Cherry,
Moss Icon,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alton Ellis,
Gabor Szabo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.