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 Croatia and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Swell Maps to the punk 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Scrapy,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül II,
Japan,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
Newcleus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow,
Soft Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Average White Band,
Robert Wyatt,
10cc,
Surgeon,
Electric Prunes,
Public Enemy,
Suburban Knight,
Barry Ungar,
ABBA,
Pantaleimon,
Desert Stars,
New Age Steppers,
The Saints,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sonic Youth,
Stetsasonic,
The United States of America,
The Names,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jerry's Kids,
Smog,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
Pere Ubu,
Davy DMX,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grauzone,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick Morgan,
Oneida,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Gang Dance,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wolf Eyes,
Harmonia,
Michelle Simonal,
Cameo,
E-Dancer,
Pylon,
UT,
Boz Scaggs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Don Cherry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gladiators,
Aswad,
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.