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 Mozambique and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro 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 Bang On A Can 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Almond,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Derrick Morgan,
Ponytail,
Franke,
Malaria!,
The Trojans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Velvet Underground,
Essential Logic,
Funky Four + One,
Bob Dylan,
The Invisible,
The Happenings,
Mo-Dettes,
The Busters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mad Mike,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barbara Tucker,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lyres,
Talk Talk,
Spoonie Gee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deakin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cybotron,
Johnny Clarke,
Jacob Miller,
The Neon Judgement,
F. McDonald,
Average White Band,
H. Thieme,
Nils Olav,
Urselle,
Rotary Connection,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Theoretical Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Don Cherry,
Kayak,
Make Up,
Quantec,
Tubeway Army,
The Fugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soulsonic Force,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fad Gadget,
Porter Ricks,
KRS-One,
Fatback Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonic Youth,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.