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 Eritrea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Joy Division to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Misunderstood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Gang Starr,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Parry Music,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roxy Music,
Wasted Youth,
Magma,
David McCallum,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sister Nancy,
Albert Ayler,
The Raincoats,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
Boogie Down Productions,
Arthur Verocai,
AZ,
Interpol,
Blancmange,
Danielle Patucci,
Steve Hackett,
T. Rex,
Hoover,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Shoche,
The Sound,
Archie Shepp,
The Motions,
Bobby Byrd,
the Bar-Kays,
Chris & Cosey,
The United States of America,
Boz Scaggs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Last Poets,
Robert Hood,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed,
Morten Harket,
Barry Ungar,
Los Fastidios,
Black Pus,
Organ,
The Real Kids,
Tom Boy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cymande,
Technova,
Soft Machine,
cv313,
Thompson Twins,
Gabor Szabo,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.