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 Suriname and from Manchester.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Sister Nancy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sparks,
Intrusion,
Qualms,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gories,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
48th St. Collective,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bill Wells,
Black Moon,
Jacob Miller,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
JFA,
Don Cherry,
Rites of Spring,
Danielle Patucci,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Magma,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
The Kinks,
Black Sheep,
Livin' Joy,
Alphaville,
Skriet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grey Daturas,
Zero Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Tom Boy,
Cecil Taylor,
Ten City,
Pole,
F. McDonald,
Eddi Front,
EPMD,
Lalo Schifrin,
Con Funk Shun,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soft Machine,
H. Thieme,
The United States of America,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aural Exciters,
Circle Jerks,
Sight & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
The Smoke,
Los Fastidios,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Unwound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Audionom,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.