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 Cuba and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cecil Taylor to the funk 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Sonics,
Hardrive,
The Blackbyrds,
Dual Sessions,
Parry Music,
Suicide,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ornette Coleman,
Dead Boys,
Pylon,
Kurtis Blow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
These Immortal Souls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Wyatt,
Royal Trux,
Television Personalities,
Motorama,
The Count Five,
Robert Görl,
Ultra Naté,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Hill,
Camberwell Now,
Ponytail,
Cluster,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mantronix,
Patti Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeff Mills,
Skriet,
The Zeros,
Peter and Kerry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Searchers,
Sugar Minott,
Lalann,
Y Pants,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dead C,
Das Ding,
Bill Near,
Cecil Taylor,
Minutemen,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fire Engines,
the Normal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
The Buckinghams,
Dave Gahan,
Technova,
Rhythm & Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Fear,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.