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 Georgia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Smiths to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pierre Henry,
Symarip,
Ludus,
Rotary Connection,
Grandmaster Flash,
Loose Ends,
Absolute Body Control,
Jawbox,
Spoonie Gee,
Stiv Bators,
Dawn Penn,
The Victims,
Boredoms,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lungfish,
Eddi Front,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thompson Twins,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
Junior Murvin,
Roxy Music,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Selecter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sarah Menescal,
Magma,
Subhumans,
Skarface,
Sam Rivers,
Iggy Pop,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Half Japanese,
Infiniti,
Sällskapet,
The Kinks,
kango's stein massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gong,
Bronski Beat,
Das Ding,
Gang Green,
Depeche Mode,
Bob Dylan,
Delta 5,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Move,
Minnie Riperton,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fugazi,
Von Mondo,
DJ Style,
Camouflage,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gun Club,
Porter Ricks,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.