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 Latvia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba 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 Judy Mowatt to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lalann,
Gang Green,
Cecil Taylor,
The Moody Blues,
The Move,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
Morten Harket,
Boz Scaggs,
Skriet,
Los Fastidios,
The Vogues,
The Golliwogs,
Audionom,
Robert Görl,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alison Limerick,
Arcadia,
Maurizio,
Bauhaus,
Flash Fearless,
Au Pairs,
The Smiths,
Bluetip,
The Slackers,
Susan Cadogan,
Stiv Bators,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
Outsiders,
Bobby Sherman,
The Star Department,
Mark Hollis,
Moss Icon,
Aural Exciters,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Albert Ayler,
Black Moon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Accadde A,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Davy DMX,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Clarke,
Aswad,
Lindisfarne,
Harry Pussy,
Unwound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerri Chandler,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.