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 Malta and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
The Stooges,
Pole,
Groovy Waters,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
Ituana,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
The Tremeloes,
Massinfluence,
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Circle Jerks,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
Stereo Dub,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ken Boothe,
Graham Central Station,
Thompson Twins,
Mo-Dettes,
Television,
The Names,
Altered Images,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sonics,
Zapp,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Leaves,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Inner City,
Jawbox,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Talk Talk,
the Normal,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Todd Rundgren,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Godley & Creme,
Nick Fraelich,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neu!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Colin Newman,
Gichy Dan,
The Real Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.