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 Namibia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Colin Newman to the funk 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Robert Wyatt,
Malaria!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cheater Slicks,
Mad Mike,
Gang of Four,
The Misunderstood,
Unrelated Segments,
EPMD,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
Reagan Youth,
Wings,
Dave Gahan,
The Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lalann,
The Cowsills,
Eve St. Jones,
The Last Poets,
Audionom,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Black Flag,
Jeff Mills,
Warren Ellis,
Boredoms,
These Immortal Souls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Visage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Offenders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Adolescents,
Fluxion,
Qualms,
Bill Near,
Saccharine Trust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soft Machine,
Junior Murvin,
Sällskapet,
Eric Copeland,
Masters at Work,
The Sonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Eden Ahbez,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Starr,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.