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 Monaco and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joyce Sims to the grime 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
Henry Cow,
Neil Young,
Half Japanese,
New Age Steppers,
Symarip,
The Mummies,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Eric Copeland,
Minny Pops,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Litter,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Average White Band,
Stiv Bators,
Babytalk,
Rod Modell,
Ponytail,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Junior Murvin,
Joy Division,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Raincoats,
Ronnie Foster,
Intrusion,
Arab on Radar,
Gang of Four,
Joey Negro,
X-101,
Fear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soulsonic Force,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Steve Hackett,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter and Kerry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fugs,
Bang On A Can,
Eve St. Jones,
The Misunderstood,
The Vogues,
The Skatalites,
The Golliwogs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minutemen,
Moebius,
Nico,
Interpol,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.