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 Bhutan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Skriet to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
Connie Case,
Pylon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
ABC,
Scratch Acid,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Red Krayola,
Banda Bassotti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fuzztones,
E-Dancer,
Yellowson,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fortunes,
Johnny Clarke,
Flash Fearless,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Aswad,
JFA,
Carl Craig,
The Invisible,
Ossler,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nils Olav,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharoah Sanders,
DNA,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tears for Fears,
The Grass Roots,
Newcleus,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bush Tetras,
Jawbox,
The Zeros,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Sonics,
the Association,
the Normal,
Sight & Sound,
Neil Young,
Boredoms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
D'Angelo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Babytalk,
Ituana,
Accadde A,
Oblivians,
The Kinks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.