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 Albania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Yaz to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Nik Kershaw,
Tomorrow,
Magma,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Funkadelic,
Deepchord,
Theoretical Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Wally Richardson,
Deakin,
Leonard Cohen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Angels of Light,
LL Cool J,
Moby Grape,
Josef K,
ABBA,
Cameo,
The Last Poets,
Skarface,
Q65,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sällskapet,
Pagans,
Eddi Front,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
Eric Dolphy,
Harmonia,
The Smiths,
The Count Five,
Young Marble Giants,
The Residents,
Sex Pistols,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Sherman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minutemen,
Index,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Prince Buster,
The Electric Prunes,
Nas,
The Real Kids,
Black Sheep,
Royal Trux,
Charles Mingus,
Joy Division,
Soft Cell,
Hasil Adkins,
Pulsallama,
Blancmange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Hood,
Parry Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.