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 Gambia and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
The Mojo Men,
Procol Harum,
Vainqueur,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultravox,
Fear,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Nirvana,
John Holt,
The Saints,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Iggy Pop,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Average White Band,
Outsiders,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rakim,
Kayak,
JFA,
Grauzone,
New Order,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed,
Mo-Dettes,
Television,
Urselle,
Deadbeat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Livin' Joy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blancmange,
Eddi Front,
Absolute Body Control,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
The Cramps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
10cc,
Scratch Acid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Popol Vuh,
Grey Daturas,
Newcleus,
Connie Case,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Laurel Aitken,
The Searchers,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.