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 Liberia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 Anthony Braxton to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Pretty Things,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Audionom,
Rufus Thomas,
Funky Four + One,
Parry Music,
FM Einheit,
Zapp,
The Index,
Outsiders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wally Richardson,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Masters at Work,
The Count Five,
Erasure,
The Neon Judgement,
Reagan Youth,
Aural Exciters,
Slick Rick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Niagra,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mojo Men,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
KRS-One,
The Victims,
Marvin Gaye,
Byron Stingily,
Visage,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barbara Tucker,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Martian,
Pulsallama,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
One Last Wish,
Rapeman,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
The Motions,
Brick,
Underground Resistance,
R.M.O.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
The Associates,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Das Ding,
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.