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 Tanzania and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
Arthur Verocai,
Sister Nancy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cameo,
Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
The Cure,
The Gladiators,
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
The Moody Blues,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Althea and Donna,
Negative Approach,
Connie Case,
Ronnie Foster,
Livin' Joy,
Idris Muhammad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reuben Wilson,
John Holt,
Lungfish,
Moby Grape,
Rites of Spring,
Underground Resistance,
Panda Bear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Skriet,
Thee Headcoats,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
F. McDonald,
Banda Bassotti,
Rekid,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eden Ahbez,
Curtis Mayfield,
Severed Heads,
Max Romeo,
The Neon Judgement,
John Coltrane,
Yazoo,
Alphaville,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The New Christs,
Derrick May,
EPMD,
Yaz,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.