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 Qatar and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Detroit Cobras to the grunge 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama 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?
Rosa Yemen,
Skarface,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül,
Suicide,
The Names,
Jeff Mills,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jawbox,
Moebius,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Slits,
The Black Dice,
Wasted Youth,
Colin Newman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bauhaus,
Buzzcocks,
Bluetip,
Eve St. Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
Dark Day,
Sugar Minott,
Symarip,
Qualms,
Black Pus,
Tom Boy,
Kas Product,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alison Limerick,
X-101,
The Moleskins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Associates,
DJ Sneak,
Index,
Joy Division,
The Victims,
Gang Starr,
Camouflage,
Joensuu 1685,
Scion,
Ituana,
The Saints,
The Young Rascals,
Brothers Johnson,
In Retrospect,
Heaven 17,
The Angels of Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
June Days,
Scott Walker,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Hill,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mantronix,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.