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 Croatia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin 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 Faraquet to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Amon Düül II,
Glenn Branca,
The Doors,
Eric Copeland,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Byrd,
The Golliwogs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mark Hollis,
T. Rex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Massinfluence,
ABC,
The Real Kids,
The Grass Roots,
Marine Girls,
Patti Smith,
Pole,
Loose Ends,
Organ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fear,
The Durutti Column,
The Gun Club,
The Modern Lovers,
Whodini,
Bill Wells,
Spoonie Gee,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Steve Hackett,
Duran Duran,
The Fall,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
UT,
JFA,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fuzztones,
The Pretty Things,
CMW,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Television Personalities,
Chris Corsano,
The Move,
The Martian,
Yusef Lateef,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
Gabor Szabo,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Holt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Outsiders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bauhaus,
The Monks,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.