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 Norway and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bang On A Can to the techno 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Walker Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Judy Mowatt,
LL Cool J,
Roy Ayers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Talk Talk,
Aural Exciters,
U.S. Maple,
The United States of America,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Average White Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wings,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crooked Eye,
Motorama,
Alphaville,
Unrelated Segments,
Japan,
Zero Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Section 25,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Finger,
Eric Copeland,
Drive Like Jehu,
David Bowie,
Unwound,
Vainqueur,
Camouflage,
Minnie Riperton,
Nick Fraelich,
Grey Daturas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Amazonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Severed Heads,
Howard Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Holt,
Lightning Bolt,
Agitation Free,
Iggy Pop,
Country Teasers,
Jesper Dahlback,
James White and The Blacks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxy Music,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.