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 Brunei and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sonics to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
10cc,
The Raincoats,
Masters at Work,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bluetip,
Archie Shepp,
Grauzone,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Urselle,
Scientists,
Scrapy,
The Gladiators,
The Standells,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Eli Mardock,
KRS-One,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Sherman,
Kerri Chandler,
a-ha,
Gichy Dan,
Tom Boy,
Ornette Coleman,
Das Ding,
Mr. Review,
Scan 7,
The Victims,
Eric Dolphy,
The Trojans,
Ludus,
FM Einheit,
Unwound,
Barbara Tucker,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dark Day,
Duran Duran,
Crispian St. Peters,
Amazonics,
Negative Approach,
Smog,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nas,
Lou Reed,
Erasure,
Soft Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Funky Four + One,
Glambeats Corp.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris & Cosey,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fugs,
Pantytec,
Gang Starr,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.