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 Canada and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Underground Resistance to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
Tim Buckley,
Negative Approach,
The Music Machine,
Don Cherry,
Popol Vuh,
Fela Kuti,
Quando Quango,
Hasil Adkins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Underground Resistance,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Vogues,
Inner City,
The Cramps,
Terry Callier,
The Standells,
Monolake,
Fluxion,
The Black Dice,
The Count Five,
Stetsasonic,
The Stooges,
The Five Americans,
Cybotron,
A Certain Ratio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scratch Acid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Accadde A,
The Moleskins,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Real Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Janne Schatter,
Severed Heads,
Lyres,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Jerry's Kids,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
Sam Rivers,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Happenings,
Lower 48,
Spoonie Gee,
Funkadelic,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
UT,
Al Stewart,
FM Einheit,
John Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.