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 Kosovo and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Swell Maps to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Fatback Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fugazi,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sister Nancy,
Darondo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aswad,
Skriet,
Don Cherry,
The Sonics,
The Offenders,
Sun City Girls,
Fat Boys,
The New Christs,
Mr. Review,
T. Rex,
The Dead C,
Lightning Bolt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
L. Decosne,
Brand Nubian,
Adolescents,
Bobby Womack,
Nik Kershaw,
Swell Maps,
The Monochrome Set,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q65,
Mandrill,
The Real Kids,
The Invisible,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Section 25,
John Coltrane,
Derrick May,
David McCallum,
Eurythmics,
Pierre Henry,
Neu!,
The Move,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter & Gordon,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Rapeman,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
Ossler,
The Last Poets,
The Count Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Visage,
KRS-One,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.