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 Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 David McCallum to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Charles Mingus,
DJ Style,
Ludus,
AZ,
The Residents,
The Shadows of Knight,
China Crisis,
Maleditus Sound,
The Victims,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Easy Going,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Absolute Body Control,
Suburban Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Bourne,
Buzzcocks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blake Baxter,
Oneida,
Hashim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lindisfarne,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
Arthur Verocai,
The Birthday Party,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Cale,
Pole,
Depeche Mode,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
The Golliwogs,
The Raincoats,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Holt,
the Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
Kayak,
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Rekid,
Lyres,
R.M.O.,
Jawbox,
The Cramps,
the Bar-Kays,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Gabor Szabo,
Glenn Branca,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.