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 Ireland and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
The Electric Prunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scan 7,
Spoonie Gee,
Severed Heads,
A Certain Ratio,
Motorama,
Niagra,
The Wake,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Hood,
La Düsseldorf,
Section 25,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Buzzcocks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Minor Threat,
The Litter,
The Slackers,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare,
Joey Negro,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
Massinfluence,
Warren Ellis,
Fela Kuti,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roy Ayers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Average White Band,
The Invisible,
a-ha,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultravox,
Livin' Joy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ituana,
The Searchers,
Los Fastidios,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blancmange,
Roger Hodgson,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Intrusion,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.