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 San Marino and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Heaven 17 to the disco 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Ohio Players,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oblivians,
Davy DMX,
The Slackers,
New Age Steppers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tommy Roe,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gladiators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Angels of Light,
New Order,
Infiniti,
The Misunderstood,
Mandrill,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Tremeloes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rites of Spring,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
Radiohead,
Peter and Kerry,
Reuben Wilson,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Monks,
Freddie Wadling,
Goldenarms,
Arthur Verocai,
Boredoms,
The Fortunes,
E-Dancer,
Iggy Pop,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deepchord,
Ludus,
Drexciya,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Birthday Party,
Mantronix,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Wyatt,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monochrome Set,
Bang On A Can,
Easy Going,
Wire,
Connie Case,
Gong,
Dawn Penn,
Magma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Mills,
Scott Walker,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.