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 Maldives and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 June Days to the dance 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Mad Mike,
Desert Stars,
Make Up,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Red Krayola,
Ludus,
Blancmange,
Joyce Sims,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Görl,
10cc,
Bootsy Collins,
Khruangbin,
Panda Bear,
Boredoms,
The Vogues,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rod Modell,
John Lydon,
Livin' Joy,
The Evens,
Sight & Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Brand Nubian,
Kerri Chandler,
Junior Murvin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Howard Jones,
Smog,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Barracudas,
F. McDonald,
Mr. Review,
Rhythm & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wasted Youth,
The Trojans,
Camouflage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Goldenarms,
The Happenings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
Eric Dolphy,
The Leaves,
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hardrive,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare,
The Gap Band,
Robert Wyatt,
New York Dolls,
The Pop Group,
The Victims,
Faust,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.