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 El Salvador and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 R.M.O. to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Quadrant,
the Association,
Judy Mowatt,
Visage,
the Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
Pulsallama,
Skarface,
Mr. Review,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Malaria!,
The Doors,
Livin' Joy,
Janne Schatter,
Soft Machine,
Magma,
Siglo XX,
Arthur Verocai,
Niagra,
Sonic Youth,
The Black Dice,
Skaos,
Derrick May,
The Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Bush Tetras,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
Althea and Donna,
Mars,
Scratch Acid,
Porter Ricks,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dirtbombs,
Susan Cadogan,
Cluster,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
U.S. Maple,
The Names,
Aural Exciters,
Scientists,
Unrelated Segments,
Dark Day,
Sugar Minott,
June Days,
Cymande,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Saccharine Trust,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Babytalk,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.