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 Egypt 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Grey Daturas to the crunk 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare,
The Trojans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pere Ubu,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
AZ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Isaac Hayes,
Sam Rivers,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
UT,
Henry Cow,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Wyatt,
Joensuu 1685,
The Seeds,
Bronski Beat,
Sällskapet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
kango's stein massive,
Davy DMX,
Chris Corsano,
Shuggie Otis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Susan Cadogan,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Angels of Light,
Marine Girls,
Schoolly D,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
Spandau Ballet,
Subhumans,
Q65,
James White and The Blacks,
Ituana,
The Stooges,
Monolake,
The Residents,
The Gun Club,
Porter Ricks,
Lyres,
Desert Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Alison Limerick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Prunes,
La Düsseldorf,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.