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 Guyana and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boredoms,
Panda Bear,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Jacob Miller,
The Walker Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Pere Ubu,
Fatback Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mr. Review,
Blancmange,
Skriet,
Wire,
Lalann,
The Fire Engines,
John Cale,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Evens,
Graham Central Station,
kango's stein massive,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gang Gang Dance,
Reuben Wilson,
Negative Approach,
Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
The Five Americans,
Rotary Connection,
The Alarm Clocks,
F. McDonald,
Chrome,
Minor Threat,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cecil Taylor,
Sixth Finger,
Surgeon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cramps,
the Normal,
Carl Craig,
JFA,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Animal Collective,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Underground Resistance,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.