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 Australia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Can to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer 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 chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
June of 44,
Wire,
Funkadelic,
Joey Negro,
Gastr Del Sol,
Half Japanese,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fuzztones,
Trumans Water,
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
Goldenarms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Techniques,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Halsall,
Andrew Hill,
Sarah Menescal,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Traffic Nightmare,
Los Fastidios,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yaz,
David Bowie,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
Nas,
Reuben Wilson,
The Music Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harry Pussy,
The Raincoats,
The Invisible,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Tres Demented,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Roy Ayers,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick May,
The United States of America,
Scientists,
Alice Coltrane,
Ken Boothe,
The Happenings,
Suburban Knight,
Scion,
Steve Hackett,
Lakeside,
The Modern Lovers,
Country Teasers,
LL Cool J,
Infiniti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q and Not U,
Absolute Body Control,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.