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 Argentina and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Traffic Nightmare to the electroclash 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
World's Most,
Dark Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Black Flag,
Michelle Simonal,
Byron Stingily,
Aloha Tigers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Anthony Braxton,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smiths,
The Fire Engines,
Hoover,
Chris & Cosey,
Brand Nubian,
Procol Harum,
The Fuzztones,
Reagan Youth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dorothy Ashby,
kango's stein massive,
Sarah Menescal,
Siglo XX,
Bluetip,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
MDC,
The Moleskins,
Malaria!,
Junior Murvin,
Matthew Halsall,
Rufus Thomas,
Bauhaus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Curtis Mayfield,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Whodini,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Last Poets,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultravox,
Nas,
Pylon,
Dual Sessions,
The Pop Group,
James White and The Blacks,
Ludus,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cowsills,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Sheep,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.