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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 John Coltrane to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Smiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Avey Tare,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Hashim,
Minutemen,
The Fortunes,
The Standells,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Inner City,
Skaos,
Silicon Teens,
Lucky Dragons,
The Residents,
The Buckinghams,
In Retrospect,
Soft Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Drexciya,
Man Eating Sloth,
DJ Sneak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New York Dolls,
Monolake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeff Mills,
Tears for Fears,
Bad Manners,
Rapeman,
Ice-T,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Red Krayola,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mad Mike,
Wolf Eyes,
Unwound,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Altered Images,
Reuben Wilson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Franke,
Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
Bootsy Collins,
Malaria!,
Average White Band,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
Khruangbin,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.