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 Bahamas and from Halifax.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pantaleimon to the disco 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Kayak,
Kas Product,
Adolescents,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lyres,
Jandek,
Peter and Kerry,
Gong,
Audionom,
Harry Pussy,
Jeff Lynne,
Suicide,
The Smiths,
The J.B.'s,
DNA,
China Crisis,
The Cure,
Pagans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Beau Brummels,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mr. Review,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gang Green,
Drexciya,
U.S. Maple,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Patti Smith,
AZ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed,
Terry Callier,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Five Americans,
The Walker Brothers,
The Moleskins,
the Sonics,
Cymande,
Quando Quango,
Pierre Henry,
Donald Byrd,
Roger Hodgson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare,
Sugar Minott,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
a-ha,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jacob Miller,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Bananas,
The Music Machine,
Sällskapet,
The Skatalites,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.