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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Pagans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
FM Einheit,
Rufus Thomas,
Barry Ungar,
Interpol,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vladislav Delay,
John Cale,
EPMD,
Rhythm & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Inner City,
Minutemen,
Boz Scaggs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Angels of Light,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scratch Acid,
Lucky Dragons,
Donald Byrd,
The J.B.'s,
The Residents,
Porter Ricks,
Basic Channel,
Ken Boothe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jacob Miller,
Shoche,
OOIOO,
New Order,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Stooges,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Foxx,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
ABBA,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
The Busters,
June of 44,
Can,
Harmonia,
Henry Cow,
Skriet,
Mo-Dettes,
Pylon,
Faraquet,
Au Pairs,
The Cowsills,
Sarah Menescal,
Smog,
T. Rex,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fatback Band,
The Saints,
The Gun Club,
Pantaleimon,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.