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 Bangladesh and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Remains to the disco 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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Sex Pistols,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Residents,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sight & Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cymande,
Donny Hathaway,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Susan Cadogan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Moon,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Sonics,
Country Teasers,
Yellowson,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
D'Angelo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wasted Youth,
Yazoo,
Chrome,
David McCallum,
The Gun Club,
Deepchord,
The Sound,
Carl Craig,
Negative Approach,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Wyatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Lydon,
Grauzone,
the Slits,
Shoche,
Easy Going,
Crash Course in Science,
Stereo Dub,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Albert Ayler,
Panda Bear,
Terry Callier,
Neu!,
Stetsasonic,
Cameo,
DNA,
In Retrospect,
Audionom,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Techniques,
Robert Görl,
Rod Modell,
The Smiths,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.