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 Botswana and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Inner City to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Junior Murvin,
the Slits,
The Martian,
Talk Talk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bluetip,
Howard Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flash Fearless,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Joensuu 1685,
Graham Central Station,
Neil Young,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Heaven 17,
Minor Threat,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
Danielle Patucci,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Human League,
the Normal,
Yusef Lateef,
Shoche,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marcia Griffiths,
Public Enemy,
Panda Bear,
Anakelly,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Durutti Column,
The Raincoats,
Soul II Soul,
Boz Scaggs,
X-102,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Sherman,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
John Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy Collins,
Animal Collective,
Magazine,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Görl,
D'Angelo,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blancmange,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.