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 Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Seeds to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Guru Guru,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare,
Alphaville,
The Mojo Men,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Silicon Teens,
Monks,
Ponytail,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spandau Ballet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young,
Derrick Morgan,
Jimmy McGriff,
U.S. Maple,
Masters at Work,
Tom Boy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Inner City,
The Last Poets,
Minutemen,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Wyatt,
Pagans,
Isaac Hayes,
Eden Ahbez,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed,
One Last Wish,
The Cure,
Khruangbin,
The Modern Lovers,
the Slits,
The Five Americans,
The Music Machine,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
Outsiders,
The Happenings,
Make Up,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pole,
Moby Grape,
Quadrant,
Gil Scott Heron,
Iggy Pop,
The Smiths,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rod Modell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
In Retrospect,
Blossom Toes,
Scion,
Fad Gadget,
Ituana,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.