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 Russia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Mr. Review to the punk 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 Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Thompson Twins,
Juan Atkins,
CMW,
Aswad,
Eddi Front,
Carl Craig,
Byron Stingily,
The Fuzztones,
the Germs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vainqueur,
Scion,
Bobby Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
Q and Not U,
Bluetip,
Albert Ayler,
Funky Four + One,
The American Breed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Mills,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Guru Guru,
Oblivians,
Saccharine Trust,
Andrew Hill,
Nico,
World's Most,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arcadia,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
Talk Talk,
Icehouse,
Wolf Eyes,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric Copeland,
Animal Collective,
JFA,
Young Marble Giants,
The Doors,
Joy Division,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Music Machine,
Stetsasonic,
Siglo XX,
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
R.M.O.,
Moss Icon,
D'Angelo,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.