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 Congo and from Taipei.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sparks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba 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 clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alison Limerick,
The Count Five,
Supertramp,
JFA,
Amon Düül,
The Misunderstood,
Faraquet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Public Enemy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
Buzzcocks,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
Nils Olav,
Tropical Tobacco,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Görl,
Newcleus,
Aloha Tigers,
Tubeway Army,
a-ha,
Connie Case,
Vainqueur,
Althea and Donna,
Iggy Pop,
The Standells,
The Stooges,
Derrick May,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skriet,
Don Cherry,
Adolescents,
Marmalade,
Lyres,
The Leaves,
MC5,
Reagan Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gories,
Max Romeo,
Maurizio,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doors,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faust,
The Star Department,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Albert Ayler,
Wally Richardson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Nick Fraelich,
Josef K,
the Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.