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 Azerbaijan and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Shuggie Otis to the crunk 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Colin Newman,
Stetsasonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
K-Klass,
R.M.O.,
Gang of Four,
Ken Boothe,
Sun Ra,
Lou Christie,
Blake Baxter,
The Raincoats,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amon Düül II,
Lee Hazlewood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brothers Johnson,
Amon Düül,
Reagan Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Lungfish,
Rosa Yemen,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mummies,
Danielle Patucci,
Y Pants,
Brass Construction,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Skatalites,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rites of Spring,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Seeds,
Oneida,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kaleidoscope,
Das Ding,
Section 25,
Black Bananas,
Stereo Dub,
DJ Style,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
UT,
Alton Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
Lower 48,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Buckinghams,
Mantronix,
Con Funk Shun,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Khruangbin,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.