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 Papua New Guinea and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Agent Orange to the rap 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
The Fall,
Rosa Yemen,
Soul II Soul,
Max Romeo,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
Loose Ends,
Fad Gadget,
Japan,
Blancmange,
Kurtis Blow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monolake,
The Victims,
Reagan Youth,
Funkadelic,
Skriet,
Scientists,
Maurizio,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Electric Prunes,
Parry Music,
Lucky Dragons,
This Heat,
Drexciya,
The Human League,
Bluetip,
Minutemen,
Blossom Toes,
Ultravox,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Inner City,
Television,
China Crisis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suicide,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stiv Bators,
The Last Poets,
JFA,
Fela Kuti,
Leonard Cohen,
Lungfish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Andrew Hill,
Porter Ricks,
Ten City,
Sun City Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Litter,
Easy Going,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.