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 Ecuador and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 funk 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
June Days,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Normal,
48th St. Collective,
Bronski Beat,
World's Most,
Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jeff Lynne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Smooth,
The Monks,
Cluster,
Sandy B,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pop Group,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Starr,
Urselle,
Oblivians,
Infiniti,
Marvin Gaye,
Nick Fraelich,
Josef K,
Don Cherry,
Aswad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Index,
Yaz,
Danielle Patucci,
Public Enemy,
Marmalade,
Simply Red,
Pulsallama,
Cal Tjader,
Anthony Braxton,
Zapp,
Nico,
Mo-Dettes,
Juan Atkins,
Monolake,
Arcadia,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Judy Mowatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Happenings,
The Toasters,
Metal Thangz,
The Mummies,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Searchers,
Steve Hackett,
Wire,
Sex Pistols,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.