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 Micronesia and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mojo Men to the jazz 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Little Man,
The Detroit Cobras,
Donald Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Monks,
Rites of Spring,
Schoolly D,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Coltrane,
Intrusion,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Surgeon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Smog,
Albert Ayler,
Janne Schatter,
Mad Mike,
Tears for Fears,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alice Coltrane,
Blancmange,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amazonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo,
Roger Hodgson,
The Standells,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Das Ding,
Black Sheep,
Brass Construction,
Sam Rivers,
Agent Orange,
Theoretical Girls,
Wally Richardson,
Unrelated Segments,
Symarip,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare,
Suburban Knight,
The Gladiators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Fad Gadget,
Stereo Dub,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amon Düül II,
The Count Five,
The Music Machine,
The Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Techniques,
MDC,
Television Personalities,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.