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 Australia and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Eric Dolphy to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Chris Corsano,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Arcadia,
The Star Department,
The Searchers,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Cybotron,
Visage,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grey Daturas,
Newcleus,
June of 44,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rapeman,
Lightning Bolt,
Steve Hackett,
Pere Ubu,
The Dead C,
the Slits,
Wasted Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Move,
Nirvana,
B.T. Express,
D'Angelo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slits,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alphaville,
Ultimate Spinach,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Franke,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric Dolphy,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
The Mummies,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
PIL,
EPMD,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bang On A Can,
Derrick May,
Carl Craig,
Joyce Sims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.