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 Afghanistan and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rap 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Japan,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
The Birthday Party,
The Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
Radio Birdman,
Goldenarms,
Kool Moe Dee,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Slits,
The Happenings,
Hardrive,
MDC,
LL Cool J,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quando Quango,
Arcadia,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerri Chandler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fela Kuti,
Little Man,
Oblivians,
Inner City,
Quadrant,
Vainqueur,
Lightning Bolt,
These Immortal Souls,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Matthew Bourne,
Delta 5,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Zero Boys,
Sound Behaviour,
Schoolly D,
Alton Ellis,
The Searchers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slick Rick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scion,
Zapp,
Country Teasers,
The Cowsills,
Yellowson,
Minutemen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Erasure,
Unwound,
Nick Fraelich,
Lindisfarne,
Joensuu 1685,
Q and Not U,
Hasil Adkins,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.