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 Namibia and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 Don Cherry to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scott Walker,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Scratch Acid,
The Grass Roots,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monochrome Set,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bad Manners,
Das Ding,
Letta Mbulu,
Josef K,
Eric Copeland,
Steve Hackett,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eden Ahbez,
Ohio Players,
Camouflage,
Jerry's Kids,
The American Breed,
Icehouse,
Amon Düül,
Magazine,
Malaria!,
Tres Demented,
Heaven 17,
Radiohead,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cowsills,
Faraquet,
The Leaves,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yazoo,
Gang of Four,
Pulsallama,
Erasure,
Barbara Tucker,
Grey Daturas,
Babytalk,
Livin' Joy,
The Sound,
JFA,
Cameo,
Y Pants,
Toni Rubio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Last Poets,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tubeway Army,
Rites of Spring,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.