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 Serbia and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Ultra Naté to the grunge 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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
John Cale,
Franke,
Slick Rick,
Bluetip,
Marmalade,
Minutemen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neil Young,
Icehouse,
Crash Course in Science,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Iggy Pop,
Camouflage,
Faust,
Gil Scott Heron,
Davy DMX,
Sparks,
Gong,
The Shadows of Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Skriet,
The Fortunes,
The Last Poets,
The Associates,
The Evens,
The Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Eden Ahbez,
Aswad,
Buzzcocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Near,
World's Most,
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fela Kuti,
Laurel Aitken,
Sex Pistols,
The Birthday Party,
Metal Thangz,
Basic Channel,
Gregory Isaacs,
Groovy Waters,
Swans,
Gichy Dan,
One Last Wish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Chris Corsano,
The Dead C,
Royal Trux,
Alison Limerick,
Sight & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q65,
Organ,
Swell Maps,
Black Flag,
Accadde A,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.