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 Ireland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Glenn Branca to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Pop Group,
Reagan Youth,
K-Klass,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
Fear,
The Selecter,
Warren Ellis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Green,
Q and Not U,
Jawbox,
Jandek,
Royal Trux,
Davy DMX,
The Moleskins,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sound,
The Vogues,
Model 500,
Erasure,
X-102,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moss Icon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magazine,
Severed Heads,
The Remains,
Joyce Sims,
Urselle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Names,
kango's stein massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mad Mike,
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Section 25,
Eric Dolphy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Maleditus Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Boredoms,
Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Jerry's Kids,
China Crisis,
Sandy B,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Yazoo,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.