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 Brunei and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Velvet Underground to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Angels of Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Infiniti,
The Human League,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
Circle Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pere Ubu,
Schoolly D,
The Fall,
Quadrant,
Agitation Free,
Rotary Connection,
Symarip,
Don Cherry,
Qualms,
Nils Olav,
Newcleus,
One Last Wish,
Index,
Half Japanese,
LL Cool J,
Fear,
Country Teasers,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
Suicide,
The Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
Dennis Brown,
Skaos,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed,
Hardrive,
The Walker Brothers,
ABBA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sarah Menescal,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
Soul II Soul,
John Cale,
Altered Images,
Derrick May,
Wolf Eyes,
The Leaves,
L. Decosne,
Bill Near,
Unrelated Segments,
Leonard Cohen,
Todd Terry,
Simply Red,
Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.