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 Sudan and from Seoul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Seoul.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Judy Mowatt to the punk 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Minutemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Bar-Kays,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jerry's Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Bananas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Michelle Simonal,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang of Four,
Popol Vuh,
Niagra,
David Bowie,
The Kinks,
Ludus,
Radio Birdman,
Brothers Johnson,
The Seeds,
Eden Ahbez,
Pussy Galore,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cybotron,
Danielle Patucci,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soulsonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
Arab on Radar,
Public Enemy,
Loose Ends,
Todd Rundgren,
Fat Boys,
The Star Department,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Erasure,
Negative Approach,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grauzone,
Tom Boy,
Idris Muhammad,
Thompson Twins,
Television Personalities,
The Birthday Party,
DNA,
Heaven 17,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sister Nancy,
Second Layer,
The Moleskins,
Q and Not U,
David Axelrod,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Reuben Wilson,
Cecil Taylor,
The Techniques,
Kayak,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.