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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Q and Not U to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Youth Brigade,
Eden Ahbez,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Neil Young,
Thee Headcoats,
Albert Ayler,
Wasted Youth,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slits,
Pere Ubu,
The Music Machine,
KRS-One,
Scott Walker,
Animal Collective,
Rotary Connection,
the Germs,
Urselle,
Fat Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sound,
Lou Christie,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Kenny Larkin,
David Bowie,
Can,
Anthony Braxton,
Public Enemy,
The Smiths,
The Fortunes,
Ornette Coleman,
Camouflage,
Sparks,
Organ,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slackers,
Von Mondo,
John Cale,
Fad Gadget,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
This Heat,
The Mojo Men,
Radiohead,
Aaron Thompson,
James White and The Blacks,
The Barracudas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Donny Hathaway,
DJ Style,
Bad Manners,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.