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 South Sudan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Charles Mingus to the crunk 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Blake Baxter,
CMW,
Yusef Lateef,
Absolute Body Control,
Oneida,
Kerrie Biddell,
Davy DMX,
Robert Görl,
Fear,
Accadde A,
Jacques Brel,
Man Parrish,
The Dead C,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
T. Rex,
Scott Walker,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
Drexciya,
The Saints,
The Human League,
kango's stein massive,
Moss Icon,
Gabor Szabo,
Negative Approach,
The Residents,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy Collins,
Lalann,
Make Up,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brass Construction,
Infiniti,
Motorama,
Youth Brigade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gladiators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aloha Tigers,
The Durutti Column,
The Mighty Diamonds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris Corsano,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gap Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radiohead,
UT,
Tears for Fears,
the Human League,
Funky Four + One,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
The Grass Roots,
Young Marble Giants,
Rekid,
In Retrospect,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.