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 Zimbabwe and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 DJ Sneak to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Easy Going,
Can,
Cameo,
Camouflage,
Barbara Tucker,
Loose Ends,
Joy Division,
Goldenarms,
Black Bananas,
Gang Gang Dance,
World's Most,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Fela Kuti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
AZ,
Freddie Wadling,
Stiv Bators,
Eli Mardock,
The Dead C,
Sarah Menescal,
Tom Boy,
Pantaleimon,
Cybotron,
The Happenings,
Nico,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Gladiators,
Flash Fearless,
Marc Almond,
Reuben Wilson,
Matthew Bourne,
Nick Fraelich,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Mandrill,
Althea and Donna,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Clarke,
Isaac Hayes,
Index,
Sun Ra,
The Stooges,
Rites of Spring,
Excepter,
Infiniti,
Talk Talk,
Lower 48,
The Remains,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
Lalann,
The Last Poets,
DJ Style,
Suburban Knight,
Audionom,
Deadbeat,
Neil Young,
EPMD,
R.M.O.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.