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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rapeman to the rap 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
DNA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Letta Mbulu,
The Kinks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick Morgan,
Index,
Sixth Finger,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Lee Hazlewood,
CMW,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gong,
Bob Dylan,
Susan Cadogan,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bluetip,
Aural Exciters,
In Retrospect,
Scion,
Black Pus,
Lindisfarne,
Pierre Henry,
Jandek,
10cc,
Wings,
Mars,
Grey Daturas,
Au Pairs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kas Product,
Delta 5,
Pylon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Maleditus Sound,
June of 44,
Sarah Menescal,
Soulsonic Force,
The J.B.'s,
Junior Murvin,
Massinfluence,
Zero Boys,
David McCallum,
The Mummies,
Pussy Galore,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.