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 Armenia 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Hasil Adkins to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Fad Gadget,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Knickerbockers,
CMW,
Rekid,
Fela Kuti,
The Barracudas,
DJ Sneak,
the Soft Cell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Intrusion,
Derrick May,
Black Bananas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barbara Tucker,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Starr,
Althea and Donna,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joey Negro,
Lightning Bolt,
Pierre Henry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Interpol,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Hill,
The Angels of Light,
Pulsallama,
Dawn Penn,
The Monks,
Ken Boothe,
Erasure,
Black Moon,
Skarface,
Bootsy Collins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
FM Einheit,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Terry,
Supertramp,
Camouflage,
Babytalk,
cv313,
Crispy Ambulance,
Silicon Teens,
Public Image Ltd.,
Index,
Pantytec,
Clear Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lindisfarne,
Rosa Yemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Danielle Patucci,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.