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 Lithuania and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Lakeside,
Organ,
The Vogues,
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gichy Dan,
Rotary Connection,
Nation of Ulysses,
Spoonie Gee,
Faraquet,
Darondo,
Sällskapet,
Thompson Twins,
H. Thieme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bob Dylan,
R.M.O.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Funkadelic,
Little Man,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gabor Szabo,
Cymande,
Pantytec,
Smog,
Los Fastidios,
World's Most,
Gang Starr,
One Last Wish,
Niagra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kas Product,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pussy Galore,
Boz Scaggs,
Newcleus,
Banda Bassotti,
Urselle,
Joyce Sims,
L. Decosne,
Ultravox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scientists,
Lyres,
Yellowson,
Al Stewart,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Junior Murvin,
The Leaves,
Steve Hackett,
Toni Rubio,
Accadde A,
The Mummies,
Soft Cell,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.