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 Netherlands and from Cairo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Liliput to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Animal Collective,
John Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABBA,
Marc Almond,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Au Pairs,
the Bar-Kays,
Buzzcocks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultra Naté,
AZ,
Eddi Front,
Sex Pistols,
Lower 48,
The Fuzztones,
Arcadia,
Heaven 17,
Fela Kuti,
Arthur Verocai,
The Velvet Underground,
Liliput,
Das Ding,
Yazoo,
Popol Vuh,
Funkadelic,
the Normal,
Skaos,
Rosa Yemen,
Negative Approach,
the Association,
Subhumans,
Letta Mbulu,
X-101,
The Durutti Column,
Gastr Del Sol,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smiths,
Neu!,
Robert Hood,
Mantronix,
The Monochrome Set,
B.T. Express,
Jawbox,
John Foxx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Man Parrish,
Unwound,
The Monks,
Gong,
Can,
Robert Wyatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Warren Ellis,
Joy Division,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.