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 Senegal and from Manchester.
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 Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Flesh Eaters to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Gun Club,
Lakeside,
Tomorrow,
Massinfluence,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
Howard Jones,
Parry Music,
Scientists,
June of 44,
The Residents,
Dorothy Ashby,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Coltrane,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Warren Ellis,
Echospace,
F. McDonald,
Basic Channel,
Scratch Acid,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Mars,
La Düsseldorf,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Busters,
the Normal,
The Five Americans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alice Coltrane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
B.T. Express,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Khruangbin,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra,
UT,
Ten City,
Main Source,
Crash Course in Science,
Boredoms,
Derrick May,
Black Sheep,
Eve St. Jones,
Camberwell Now,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smiths,
Clear Light,
Organ,
Ossler,
Lou Christie,
EPMD,
Glenn Branca,
Wally Richardson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.