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 Poland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Chris Corsano 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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
The Toasters,
The Cowsills,
The Smiths,
Andrew Hill,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
The Golliwogs,
Pantytec,
Electric Prunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Holt,
The Buckinghams,
Animal Collective,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Machine,
The Mojo Men,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
Vainqueur,
The Standells,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Leonard Cohen,
Althea and Donna,
Crooked Eye,
Roxy Music,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lower 48,
Ultra Naté,
Lakeside,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Steve Hackett,
Pierre Henry,
The American Breed,
The Mummies,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maleditus Sound,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Duran Duran,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Rundgren,
Yusef Lateef,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
Anthony Braxton,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wire,
Surgeon,
Oblivians,
Nirvana,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cal Tjader,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.