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 Russia and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Gichy Dan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Grass Roots,
Outsiders,
The Divine Comedy,
Aural Exciters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
David McCallum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doobie Brothers,
LL Cool J,
Heaven 17,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Los Fastidios,
Crooked Eye,
Grey Daturas,
Glenn Branca,
Warsaw,
Animal Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Sight & Sound,
Chrome,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joey Negro,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Warren Ellis,
Reagan Youth,
Slave,
Joyce Sims,
The Velvet Underground,
Pantytec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
K-Klass,
Kurtis Blow,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker,
The Fall,
Freddie Wadling,
Q and Not U,
Letta Mbulu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
D'Angelo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pulsallama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Little Man,
Davy DMX,
Reuben Wilson,
Inner City,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
Barry Ungar,
Surgeon,
T. Rex,
Nirvana,
EPMD,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.