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 Mozambique and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pagans to the grunge 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
Brick,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Five Americans,
D'Angelo,
The United States of America,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Rosa Yemen,
John Foxx,
Danielle Patucci,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
AZ,
The Martian,
Can,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mojo Men,
Max Romeo,
Man Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
Delon & Dalcan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yellowson,
Hasil Adkins,
Cameo,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Panda Bear,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Reuben Wilson,
Roxette,
Glenn Branca,
A Certain Ratio,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heaven 17,
Eric Dolphy,
B.T. Express,
The Blues Magoos,
Camberwell Now,
Carl Craig,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Letta Mbulu,
Young Marble Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Womack,
Mars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Freddie Wadling,
the Swans,
The American Breed,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.