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 China and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Scott Walker to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
Josef K,
The Saints,
Big Daddy Kane,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
EPMD,
Sun City Girls,
The Star Department,
Vladislav Delay,
Carl Craig,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pylon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The American Breed,
Rufus Thomas,
Saccharine Trust,
Eli Mardock,
CMW,
One Last Wish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vainqueur,
Chris Corsano,
Underground Resistance,
Mantronix,
The Birthday Party,
Make Up,
Nils Olav,
Marine Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Remains,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Near,
Toni Rubio,
Lyres,
The Offenders,
David Axelrod,
Siglo XX,
Popol Vuh,
Bluetip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
AZ,
Boz Scaggs,
Rod Modell,
Tears for Fears,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Velvet Underground,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Blancmange,
MC5,
Warren Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
Albert Ayler,
The Raincoats,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.