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 Vietnam 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Hoover to the jazz 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Green,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Monochrome Set,
the Slits,
JFA,
LL Cool J,
Tom Boy,
Barbara Tucker,
Young Marble Giants,
Von Mondo,
Massinfluence,
Archie Shepp,
Mission of Burma,
Model 500,
Josef K,
Skriet,
Sam Rivers,
Gong,
Symarip,
The Angels of Light,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wally Richardson,
Yaz,
Matthew Bourne,
D'Angelo,
Guru Guru,
Donald Byrd,
Derrick May,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Hood,
Judy Mowatt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warsaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Aswad,
Inner City,
Bush Tetras,
Dennis Brown,
Chris & Cosey,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
The Blackbyrds,
Scan 7,
Wire,
Monolake,
Pantaleimon,
Byron Stingily,
Livin' Joy,
Negative Approach,
Mo-Dettes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The J.B.'s,
The New Christs,
Roger Hodgson,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.