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 Saudi Arabia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Evens to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Steve Hackett,
Easy Going,
Skaos,
Terry Callier,
The Motions,
The Skatalites,
Unrelated Segments,
Grauzone,
Magazine,
Schoolly D,
Au Pairs,
Gang of Four,
Ituana,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barry Ungar,
Lower 48,
H. Thieme,
Minny Pops,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pantytec,
Tomorrow,
Guru Guru,
The Pop Group,
Lungfish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roger Hodgson,
Vainqueur,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moby Grape,
Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Babytalk,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Franke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crash Course in Science,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultra Naté,
The United States of America,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra,
Juan Atkins,
The Invisible,
Bronski Beat,
The Neon Judgement,
Jandek,
Pagans,
Maleditus Sound,
Max Romeo,
Masters at Work,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
The Offenders,
Jeff Mills,
Marvin Gaye,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.