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 Sudan and from London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Ossler to the electroclash 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Starr,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Erykah Badu,
Lakeside,
Public Enemy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fuzztones,
The Busters,
Roxette,
Alison Limerick,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Zapp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Albert Ayler,
Amon Düül II,
Sound Behaviour,
Dawn Penn,
Kayak,
Clear Light,
Bauhaus,
The Red Krayola,
Jacob Miller,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
F. McDonald,
Neu!,
Pole,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Womack,
Neil Young,
June of 44,
Drexciya,
Josef K,
Deadbeat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare,
Black Bananas,
Ornette Coleman,
kango's stein massive,
UT,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ten City,
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Mr. Review,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vladislav Delay,
Marine Girls,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.