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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jandek to the electroclash 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Malaria!,
Soul II Soul,
Al Stewart,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pantaleimon,
Jerry's Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Fortunes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neu!,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
Cybotron,
The Mummies,
Black Bananas,
Tres Demented,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cowsills,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Buckinghams,
Motorama,
Scientists,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flash Fearless,
Fluxion,
Joe Smooth,
Donny Hathaway,
Intrusion,
Aswad,
Sugar Minott,
Terry Callier,
Shoche,
Rod Modell,
X-101,
The Evens,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
Amon Düül II,
Howard Jones,
Roger Hodgson,
Parry Music,
Das Ding,
Prince Buster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zero Boys,
Moebius,
Brand Nubian,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.