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 Monaco and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Black Bananas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic 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?
Pantytec,
Ronnie Foster,
Smog,
Dead Boys,
Pagans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nico,
The Motions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stereo Dub,
Supertramp,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Fear,
the Human League,
Yellowson,
Chris & Cosey,
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Thee Headcoats,
Ituana,
Eddi Front,
Grauzone,
This Heat,
Moby Grape,
Lalann,
Erykah Badu,
Sister Nancy,
Iggy Pop,
Donald Byrd,
Stetsasonic,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Lynne,
Sparks,
Scion,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Black Dice,
Aural Exciters,
Eric Copeland,
The Gladiators,
The Monochrome Set,
Barrington Levy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brass Construction,
Stockholm Monsters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joe Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wire,
Q and Not U,
Gang Starr,
Fort Wilson Riot,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mojo Men,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gories,
Loose Ends,
The Moody Blues,
Judy Mowatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.