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 Albania and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Offenders to the punk 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sandy B,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Groovy Waters,
Josef K,
Gregory Isaacs,
Motorama,
Country Teasers,
The Saints,
David McCallum,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Raincoats,
The Mummies,
F. McDonald,
Ornette Coleman,
Minny Pops,
FM Einheit,
The Golliwogs,
Massinfluence,
Nick Fraelich,
The Grass Roots,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Fania All-Stars,
June of 44,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crash Course in Science,
The Stooges,
The Human League,
The Five Americans,
Vladislav Delay,
Alice Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Amon Düül II,
Funkadelic,
Crime,
48th St. Collective,
Fat Boys,
Boredoms,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
OOIOO,
Quadrant,
The Skatalites,
Marcia Griffiths,
Darondo,
Schoolly D,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Organ,
Visage,
Kaleidoscope,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.