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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aswad,
The Angels of Light,
This Heat,
Con Funk Shun,
Niagra,
Dark Day,
Sarah Menescal,
Gong,
Prince Buster,
Ice-T,
Grauzone,
Whodini,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Moody Blues,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
U.S. Maple,
The Monochrome Set,
Sight & Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
Avey Tare,
D'Angelo,
Thee Headcoats,
Vainqueur,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alice Coltrane,
Howard Jones,
Matthew Bourne,
Lindisfarne,
Bob Dylan,
The Raincoats,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joe Smooth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun City Girls,
Agitation Free,
The Music Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kenny Larkin,
Procol Harum,
Q65,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rites of Spring,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül,
Eurythmics,
Althea and Donna,
Quantec,
Mr. Review,
Fugazi,
Darondo,
Eli Mardock,
Tom Boy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.