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 Tanzania and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Terrestrial Tones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Public Enemy,
Eurythmics,
Connie Case,
Glenn Branca,
the Bar-Kays,
Al Stewart,
Soulsonic Force,
Agitation Free,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The New Christs,
Yellowson,
Ludus,
Absolute Body Control,
T. Rex,
Alton Ellis,
The Selecter,
Barry Ungar,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy Collins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Angry Samoans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cameo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harry Pussy,
Cymande,
The Star Department,
Rufus Thomas,
Rod Modell,
Ken Boothe,
Animal Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Techniques,
Rotary Connection,
Aural Exciters,
Freddie Wadling,
Goldenarms,
JFA,
Anakelly,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fortunes,
the Swans,
E-Dancer,
DJ Sneak,
Ultravox,
the Slits,
Terry Callier,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
The United States of America,
Section 25,
Mark Hollis,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed,
the Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lakeside,
Skaos,
Fear,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.