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 Zambia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Radiohead to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mad Mike,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Searchers,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mantronix,
The Cramps,
the Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Country Teasers,
The Moleskins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minny Pops,
Flipper,
Marmalade,
Animal Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
Josef K,
Lalann,
Quantec,
Alphaville,
The Invisible,
The Knickerbockers,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Bananas,
Wasted Youth,
Sight & Sound,
JFA,
H. Thieme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oblivians,
T.S.O.L.,
Blancmange,
Bob Dylan,
The Martian,
Stetsasonic,
Agent Orange,
Motorama,
Fad Gadget,
James White and The Blacks,
Cybotron,
June of 44,
Fugazi,
The Misunderstood,
Susan Cadogan,
Suburban Knight,
Television Personalities,
the Fania All-Stars,
Howard Jones,
The Fortunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stereo Dub,
Crispy Ambulance,
AZ,
La Düsseldorf,
Albert Ayler,
Eric Dolphy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.