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 Iran and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Hoover to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers,
The Tremeloes,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
ABBA,
Ornette Coleman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Guru Guru,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Groovy Waters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moleskins,
The Gap Band,
10cc,
Lungfish,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
The Fuzztones,
Thompson Twins,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Quando Quango,
Television,
The Blackbyrds,
Ken Boothe,
Wire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jacques Brel,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pussy Galore,
Basic Channel,
The Invisible,
B.T. Express,
New Order,
Bill Near,
Eve St. Jones,
Easy Going,
Popol Vuh,
Tom Boy,
Bootsy Collins,
In Retrospect,
Talk Talk,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skriet,
Maleditus Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun City Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Babytalk,
Moebius,
Graham Central Station,
The Index,
Deadbeat,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.