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 Sierra Leone and from Delhi.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Max Romeo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Byron Stingily,
The Red Krayola,
New Order,
Erykah Badu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Anakelly,
Tres Demented,
Inner City,
Laurel Aitken,
Parry Music,
The Mummies,
the Normal,
Sex Pistols,
Royal Trux,
Suburban Knight,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
The Blues Magoos,
Yellowson,
Easy Going,
World's Most,
Nirvana,
The Slackers,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Style,
Young Marble Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Howard Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains,
Gong,
Basic Channel,
Bronski Beat,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs,
Ludus,
Alphaville,
Ronan,
Bad Manners,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DJ Sneak,
Wire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Juan Atkins,
Alison Limerick,
The Leaves,
ABBA,
Agent Orange,
Infiniti,
Don Cherry,
Monks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rakim,
Yaz,
Groovy Waters,
Harry Pussy,
Interpol,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.