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 Honduras and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Warren Ellis to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
H. Thieme,
Camouflage,
The Blues Magoos,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sam Rivers,
Nick Fraelich,
Kurtis Blow,
Infiniti,
cv313,
David Axelrod,
Bronski Beat,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers,
OOIOO,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thompson Twins,
Bob Dylan,
The Cure,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Ken Boothe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jawbox,
Accadde A,
Kevin Saunderson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joyce Sims,
Morten Harket,
Charles Mingus,
Fela Kuti,
The Remains,
Rosa Yemen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rapeman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Warsaw,
Archie Shepp,
Toni Rubio,
This Heat,
The Golliwogs,
Echospace,
Flipper,
The Seeds,
The Blackbyrds,
Bauhaus,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tres Demented,
Bill Wells,
Pylon,
The Offenders,
Black Flag,
Albert Ayler,
Metal Thangz,
UT,
June Days,
The Smoke,
The Move,
Can,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.