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 South Africa and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro 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 DNA to the jazz 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Moss Icon,
The Toasters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
Byron Stingily,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
U.S. Maple,
Silicon Teens,
CMW,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter and Kerry,
the Human League,
Reagan Youth,
Connie Case,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Selecter,
Can,
The Smoke,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gladiators,
Popol Vuh,
Absolute Body Control,
Mark Hollis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
a-ha,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fluxion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cluster,
Tubeway Army,
The Grass Roots,
Zapp,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cecil Taylor,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Sonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
10cc,
Newcleus,
Motorama,
Los Fastidios,
Bauhaus,
The Residents,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gichy Dan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Copeland,
The Techniques,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swell Maps,
Goldenarms,
The Last Poets,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.