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 Ireland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Lalo Schifrin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ 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?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
R.M.O.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deepchord,
Blossom Toes,
Funky Four + One,
Oblivians,
The Evens,
Robert Wyatt,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Adolescents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tom Boy,
X-Ray Spex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Swell Maps,
Franke,
Angry Samoans,
Aaron Thompson,
Audionom,
Dave Gahan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Saccharine Trust,
Ohio Players,
MDC,
Tres Demented,
Eve St. Jones,
Hoover,
Sam Rivers,
Accadde A,
Bootsy Collins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Buzzcocks,
Quantec,
Henry Cow,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Hill,
This Heat,
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dennis Brown,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Charles Mingus,
Pylon,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Womack,
Max Romeo,
Can,
MC5,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barry Ungar,
The Selecter,
X-102,
Symarip,
Eden Ahbez,
John Cale,
Robert Görl,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.