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 Malaysia and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Tim Buckley to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Pulsallama,
Prince Buster,
The Motions,
OOIOO,
Infiniti,
Sandy B,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heaven 17,
Fluxion,
Quadrant,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fall,
Maurizio,
Yaz,
Guru Guru,
Panda Bear,
Piero Umiliani,
Yusef Lateef,
Groovy Waters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
The Trojans,
Kayak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minor Threat,
Skaos,
D'Angelo,
Maleditus Sound,
Ponytail,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cal Tjader,
The Flesh Eaters,
Andrew Hill,
Godley & Creme,
Carl Craig,
Leonard Cohen,
Erasure,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Grass Roots,
Chris & Cosey,
Crash Course in Science,
L. Decosne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aaron Thompson,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
The Fuzztones,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Near,
Intrusion,
Lou Reed,
Audionom,
Index,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scan 7,
The Sonics,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.