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 Guinea-Bissau 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin 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 Gang Green to the rock 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Reuben Wilson,
the Sonics,
The Human League,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Robert Wyatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aural Exciters,
Sam Rivers,
Kenny Larkin,
Lakeside,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Loose Ends,
Radio Birdman,
The Trojans,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Bowie,
Ituana,
Piero Umiliani,
Josef K,
E-Dancer,
Pagans,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
CMW,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Coltrane,
Lightning Bolt,
Television Personalities,
Barclay James Harvest,
Marcia Griffiths,
Newcleus,
Interpol,
Babytalk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Urselle,
Jesper Dahlback,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quantec,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alphaville,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quando Quango,
Zero Boys,
Angry Samoans,
Minnie Riperton,
Metal Thangz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang of Four,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s,
John Cale,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.