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 Iraq and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the oboe 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 Oblivians to the grime 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
The Smoke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hardrive,
Bob Dylan,
The Slits,
Chrome,
cv313,
Amazonics,
Goldenarms,
Susan Cadogan,
Tubeway Army,
Hasil Adkins,
EPMD,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vainqueur,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Monolake,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
Nik Kershaw,
Drexciya,
Agitation Free,
F. McDonald,
Young Marble Giants,
Kayak,
Absolute Body Control,
Infiniti,
Television Personalities,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter,
U.S. Maple,
David Axelrod,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Don Cherry,
Roxette,
Parry Music,
Flipper,
Easy Going,
Toni Rubio,
Pere Ubu,
Joe Finger,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Warsaw,
Pulsallama,
Minny Pops,
The Remains,
Fat Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Faust,
Lalann,
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column,
Warren Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Fela Kuti,
Pagans,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.