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 Ecuador and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Moody Blues to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
The Gap Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wire,
Lower 48,
Cabaret Voltaire,
U.S. Maple,
Piero Umiliani,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wings,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
a-ha,
Deepchord,
Von Mondo,
Sarah Menescal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Malaria!,
Boredoms,
Bill Near,
Matthew Bourne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joe Finger,
OOIOO,
Icehouse,
Dead Boys,
Ponytail,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Almond,
The Associates,
Slave,
June Days,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sexual Harrassment,
China Crisis,
The Beau Brummels,
Lungfish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
cv313,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ice-T,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Erasure,
Loose Ends,
Public Enemy,
Darondo,
Oblivians,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crooked Eye,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.