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 Bahrain and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Laurel Aitken to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Bill Near,
Bush Tetras,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
Faust,
Nirvana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grauzone,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Von Mondo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alton Ellis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Godley & Creme,
Procol Harum,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
the Swans,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
Television,
Brass Construction,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mad Mike,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Connie Case,
The Gun Club,
Q and Not U,
Henry Cow,
Sex Pistols,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers,
Quantec,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Television Personalities,
Nils Olav,
Chris & Cosey,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
World's Most,
Iggy Pop,
Magazine,
The Motions,
Lou Reed,
Isaac Hayes,
Brick,
kango's stein massive,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.