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 Belgium and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 Second Layer 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minutemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deadbeat,
Wolf Eyes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Young Rascals,
Japan,
Drexciya,
New York Dolls,
Cecil Taylor,
Swell Maps,
Eve St. Jones,
Faraquet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Starr,
Gregory Isaacs,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oblivians,
Joe Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Flesh Eaters,
Television Personalities,
Barbara Tucker,
Goldenarms,
a-ha,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Youth Brigade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Infiniti,
The Moody Blues,
Roxy Music,
Alphaville,
Pharoah Sanders,
K-Klass,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Trojans,
John Coltrane,
Alice Coltrane,
Rotary Connection,
Barry Ungar,
Glenn Branca,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Althea and Donna,
John Cale,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Sonic Youth,
R.M.O.,
The Dead C,
Excepter,
Matthew Bourne,
Los Fastidios,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.