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 Namibia and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Accadde A to the grime 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Lucky Dragons,
Spandau Ballet,
Joey Negro,
Ultra Naté,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Bad Manners,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Skaos,
Gong,
The Slits,
Mr. Review,
Oneida,
Joe Finger,
UT,
Althea and Donna,
Public Image Ltd.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
This Heat,
Chris & Cosey,
Susan Cadogan,
Main Source,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
The Selecter,
Cal Tjader,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Music Machine,
Scrapy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Toni Rubio,
Wally Richardson,
Faraquet,
Gang Starr,
MDC,
New York Dolls,
Minnie Riperton,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Mills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Tom Boy,
Ken Boothe,
Flipper,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cluster,
the Sonics,
Von Mondo,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.