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 Kosovo and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Divine Comedy to the techno 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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Mantronix,
The Last Poets,
The Evens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Sonics,
The Motions,
X-101,
Graham Central Station,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fluxion,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jandek,
Young Marble Giants,
Patti Smith,
Gang Starr,
Suburban Knight,
Aaron Thompson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lightning Bolt,
ABC,
Dead Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Outsiders,
Nick Fraelich,
LL Cool J,
Jimmy McGriff,
Swell Maps,
Basic Channel,
Maleditus Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul II Soul,
E-Dancer,
Isaac Hayes,
Absolute Body Control,
Tres Demented,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hoover,
Junior Murvin,
Freddie Wadling,
Howard Jones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lower 48,
Connie Case,
Neil Young,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Byrd,
the Germs,
Wolf Eyes,
Donny Hathaway,
The Zeros,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Near,
Average White Band,
Tim Buckley,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Görl,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.