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 Niger 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Malaria! to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare 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 Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Saccharine Trust,
R.M.O.,
Ice-T,
MDC,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mars,
The Monks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Modern Lovers,
Main Source,
Maurizio,
Patti Smith,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rakim,
DNA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
Mr. Review,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
Moebius,
Can,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gichy Dan,
Procol Harum,
Subhumans,
Simply Red,
The Cramps,
Lower 48,
Infiniti,
Quadrant,
Neu!,
Marc Almond,
Ultravox,
Cecil Taylor,
Nils Olav,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
James White and The Blacks,
Royal Trux,
Gang Starr,
Steve Hackett,
Hasil Adkins,
Scrapy,
The Electric Prunes,
Organ,
Country Teasers,
Harmonia,
Grey Daturas,
Camberwell Now,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.