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 Bulgaria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 Curtis Mayfield to the crunk 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Gastr Del Sol,
MC5,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Germs,
The Count Five,
Urselle,
R.M.O.,
Derrick Morgan,
The Leaves,
Arab on Radar,
Banda Bassotti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Black Dice,
Bootsy Collins,
Thee Headcoats,
Mandrill,
Royal Trux,
The Beau Brummels,
Boredoms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Severed Heads,
Joy Division,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lungfish,
Gichy Dan,
Country Teasers,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
The Velvet Underground,
Funkadelic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cramps,
Organ,
Swans,
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
Make Up,
Sam Rivers,
Ituana,
Minny Pops,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
The Toasters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
Henry Cow,
Little Man,
Neu!,
The Kinks,
Stereo Dub,
Malaria!,
Silicon Teens,
ABC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Offenders,
The Gap Band,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.