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 Mozambique and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeff Mills to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
The Doobie Brothers,
Matthew Bourne,
Michelle Simonal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül II,
Vainqueur,
Minny Pops,
Animal Collective,
DJ Style,
Eve St. Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aural Exciters,
Bad Manners,
Bush Tetras,
kango's stein massive,
Amazonics,
T. Rex,
Ludus,
Aswad,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Parry Music,
Hasil Adkins,
Marine Girls,
Visage,
Boredoms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
David Axelrod,
Lightning Bolt,
Cluster,
Clear Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Gang Dance,
Moss Icon,
Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Christie,
Fugazi,
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Angels of Light,
Kool Moe Dee,
Iggy Pop,
New Order,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed,
The Last Poets,
This Heat,
The Vogues,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Symarip,
The Young Rascals,
Cameo,
Moby Grape,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
the Normal,
Gichy Dan,
the Sonics,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.