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 Kiribati and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor 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?
Yellowson,
Thompson Twins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacob Miller,
Circle Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
Joy Division,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Hood,
The Selecter,
Silicon Teens,
Lightning Bolt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Motorama,
The Misunderstood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deepchord,
Barrington Levy,
Josef K,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smoke,
Talk Talk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Adolescents,
Ludus,
The Cramps,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
CMW,
The Names,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dual Sessions,
John Cale,
The Red Krayola,
Shuggie Otis,
China Crisis,
New Order,
Janne Schatter,
Amon Düül II,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Music Machine,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sound Behaviour,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liliput,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ponytail,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultra Naté,
The Index,
Basic Channel,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.