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 Suriname and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Oneida to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Groovy Waters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Duran Duran,
Girls At Our Best!,
Danielle Patucci,
Deadbeat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Severed Heads,
Sound Behaviour,
Henry Cow,
Rotary Connection,
ABC,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bush Tetras,
Anthony Braxton,
Pantytec,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Organ,
Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Underground Resistance,
The Fuzztones,
Warren Ellis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Royal Trux,
T.S.O.L.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Machine,
The Golliwogs,
Aloha Tigers,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
Blancmange,
The Fortunes,
Gang of Four,
Thompson Twins,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
Bad Manners,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spoonie Gee,
Howard Jones,
Ohio Players,
CMW,
Cameo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
Sun City Girls,
Unwound,
Rapeman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jandek,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.