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 Slovenia and from Salvador.
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 Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Eric Copeland to the punk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Cameo,
Gong,
David McCallum,
Make Up,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Techniques,
The Fall,
Dennis Brown,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
Sam Rivers,
H. Thieme,
Brand Nubian,
Byron Stingily,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bauhaus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lucky Dragons,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moss Icon,
Carl Craig,
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Icehouse,
John Holt,
The Wake,
Neil Young,
Minny Pops,
The Last Poets,
The Tremeloes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Desert Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nation of Ulysses,
E-Dancer,
AZ,
Oneida,
Fluxion,
Trumans Water,
Slave,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Germs,
Eddi Front,
Roger Hodgson,
Easy Going,
The Martian,
Terrestrial Tones,
Colin Newman,
Reuben Wilson,
Excepter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hardrive,
Interpol,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.