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 Botswana and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Fat Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Blossom Toes,
Ultra Naté,
Tommy Roe,
Model 500,
Half Japanese,
Oneida,
Television,
Fela Kuti,
B.T. Express,
Faust,
Heaven 17,
The Dirtbombs,
Junior Murvin,
Idris Muhammad,
Joy Division,
Joe Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jacob Miller,
Youth Brigade,
Ronnie Foster,
Eve St. Jones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
Von Mondo,
Spoonie Gee,
Cluster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DNA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Connie Case,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Metal Thangz,
The Fugs,
Country Teasers,
The Grass Roots,
Inner City,
Roxy Music,
Dead Boys,
Tres Demented,
Swans,
Underground Resistance,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
Clear Light,
Black Bananas,
The Misunderstood,
Eden Ahbez,
Adolescents,
Robert Hood,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
Negative Approach,
Hardrive,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Zero Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang On A Can,
The Motions,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.