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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Durutti Column,
Mr. Review,
Siglo XX,
Piero Umiliani,
Unrelated Segments,
Can,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Swans,
Soulsonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Tubeway Army,
Thompson Twins,
T. Rex,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Grass Roots,
Susan Cadogan,
Fad Gadget,
The J.B.'s,
Panda Bear,
June of 44,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Last Poets,
Laurel Aitken,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Groovy Waters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Circle Jerks,
Yusef Lateef,
Procol Harum,
Connie Case,
Quadrant,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
Danielle Patucci,
48th St. Collective,
Depeche Mode,
Section 25,
Idris Muhammad,
Bluetip,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Toasters,
Zero Boys,
This Heat,
the Association,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Youth Brigade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Byrd,
Massinfluence,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Sugar Minott,
The Slackers,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.