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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mexico City.
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 Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sun City Girls to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Throbbing Gristle,
Procol Harum,
Erykah Badu,
Desert Stars,
Anakelly,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cymande,
Mantronix,
Y Pants,
A Certain Ratio,
Jeff Mills,
Angry Samoans,
The Moleskins,
Magma,
JFA,
The Fuzztones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Excepter,
Minutemen,
Amazonics,
Camberwell Now,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moby Grape,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Lightning Bolt,
Archie Shepp,
Michelle Simonal,
Glenn Branca,
The Fall,
Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Green,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mo-Dettes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Cale,
Harry Pussy,
Eurythmics,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Mission of Burma,
Panda Bear,
ABC,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dorothy Ashby,
Underground Resistance,
Drexciya,
Animal Collective,
The Index,
Dual Sessions,
Chris & Cosey,
ABBA,
Gang Starr,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.