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 Grenada and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deakin to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doors,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Funkadelic,
Cameo,
The Slits,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Can,
Thompson Twins,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Byrd,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tears for Fears,
The Selecter,
Jacob Miller,
Drexciya,
Don Cherry,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Toasters,
Slave,
The Grass Roots,
Wally Richardson,
Grauzone,
Intrusion,
Agent Orange,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare,
Zero Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Groovy Waters,
Amazonics,
H. Thieme,
Darondo,
The Golliwogs,
10cc,
Pierre Henry,
Ten City,
The Dead C,
Roxy Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
Faust,
LL Cool J,
The Litter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Clear Light,
E-Dancer,
Harmonia,
kango's stein massive,
Soul II Soul,
The Index,
Sarah Menescal,
The Searchers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.