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 Kuwait and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 MDC to the techno 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Sarah Menescal,
L. Decosne,
Scan 7,
Brass Construction,
The Residents,
Glambeats Corp.,
OOIOO,
Negative Approach,
Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Connie Case,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gichy Dan,
Fat Boys,
Interpol,
Rotary Connection,
Iggy Pop,
10cc,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül,
The Beau Brummels,
Cluster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ludus,
Chrome,
Freddie Wadling,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Duran Duran,
Buzzcocks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fad Gadget,
Tom Boy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Anthony Braxton,
Procol Harum,
The Doors,
The Monks,
Junior Murvin,
Goldenarms,
Radiohead,
Lucky Dragons,
Tears for Fears,
Ossler,
Pagans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Swans,
Henry Cow,
Camouflage,
Magazine,
the Association,
Banda Bassotti,
Skriet,
Boredoms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Newcleus,
Model 500,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.