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 Lithuania and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 The Misunderstood to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Bush Tetras,
H. Thieme,
ABBA,
Bluetip,
The Index,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Residents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Prince Buster,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
Outsiders,
The Blackbyrds,
Pantytec,
Pierre Henry,
The J.B.'s,
Hoover,
Don Cherry,
Popol Vuh,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young,
Public Enemy,
Darondo,
Babytalk,
The Motions,
Groovy Waters,
The Skatalites,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Lynne,
Inner City,
Pagans,
Jawbox,
The Toasters,
Peter and Kerry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crime,
Donald Byrd,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
Smog,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
The Remains,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alton Ellis,
Carl Craig,
Brass Construction,
Kerri Chandler,
Marvin Gaye,
Slave,
Con Funk Shun,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Khruangbin,
Fugazi,
Harmonia,
Black Pus,
E-Dancer,
Kenny Larkin,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.