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 Rwanda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Q65 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camouflage,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gladiators,
Vainqueur,
The Moleskins,
Sällskapet,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
Henry Cow,
Shoche,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Reagan Youth,
Hardrive,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Harmonia,
Toni Rubio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wasted Youth,
Colin Newman,
Warsaw,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Real Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Albert Ayler,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Graham Central Station,
Barrington Levy,
the Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
The New Christs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Banda Bassotti,
Popol Vuh,
Amon Düül,
Deepchord,
Hoover,
Eddi Front,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sound,
Mad Mike,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
Peter & Gordon,
Thee Headcoats,
Unrelated Segments,
Scott Walker,
Negative Approach,
The Modern Lovers,
Radiohead,
Althea and Donna,
Hot Snakes,
The Names,
Bill Wells,
The Knickerbockers,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.