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 Bahrain and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 The Cowsills to the techno 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
OOIOO,
Unrelated Segments,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-101,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quantec,
Fat Boys,
The Fuzztones,
Anthony Braxton,
The Index,
Mo-Dettes,
The Tremeloes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Warsaw,
Danielle Patucci,
Rekid,
Camberwell Now,
Iggy Pop,
Eddi Front,
Unwound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wally Richardson,
Parry Music,
The Fortunes,
Public Enemy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Offenders,
The Cowsills,
The Young Rascals,
Pole,
Rod Modell,
Donny Hathaway,
Nas,
Stetsasonic,
Blancmange,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Bananas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scion,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crash Course in Science,
Main Source,
Warren Ellis,
Terry Callier,
La Düsseldorf,
The Vogues,
Sister Nancy,
Peter & Gordon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Techniques,
Ponytail,
Television Personalities,
This Heat,
Schoolly D,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.