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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Animal Collective to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Sugar Minott,
Bang On A Can,
Liliput,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Donald Byrd,
Tomorrow,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Toasters,
The Fuzztones,
Desert Stars,
The Barracudas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Axelrod,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerri Chandler,
Henry Cow,
Oblivians,
Crooked Eye,
Man Parrish,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cure,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Green,
Con Funk Shun,
Ossler,
Fear,
Cal Tjader,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Reagan Youth,
Isaac Hayes,
X-Ray Spex,
Procol Harum,
The Slackers,
The Doors,
Stetsasonic,
Kenny Larkin,
The Modern Lovers,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
Surgeon,
Marc Almond,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Birthday Party,
Arcadia,
Charles Mingus,
Wire,
Tubeway Army,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Womack,
Archie Shepp,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.