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 Nicaragua and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 T. Rex to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Neu!,
T.S.O.L.,
The Grass Roots,
The Monochrome Set,
The Durutti Column,
The Martian,
Wasted Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeru the Damaja,
Intrusion,
DJ Style,
The Fortunes,
Scrapy,
Wire,
The Divine Comedy,
Lucky Dragons,
Aural Exciters,
MC5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tubeway Army,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
The Names,
Crispian St. Peters,
Carl Craig,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Trojans,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bronski Beat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eli Mardock,
U.S. Maple,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blackbyrds,
The Skatalites,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fear,
Lou Reed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter and Kerry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Motorama,
Chris & Cosey,
Lalann,
Rosa Yemen,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Chris Corsano,
Fluxion,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Slits,
Excepter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
OOIOO,
Sarah Menescal,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.