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 Tajikistan 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Archie Shepp to the rock 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear 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?
Marmalade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blackbyrds,
Rod Modell,
Mr. Review,
The Saints,
Scan 7,
Vainqueur,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Graham Central Station,
Fad Gadget,
Bang On A Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harry Pussy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed,
Sight & Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Names,
Radiohead,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Piero Umiliani,
One Last Wish,
Nirvana,
The Electric Prunes,
Angry Samoans,
Man Parrish,
Lower 48,
the Association,
Ten City,
Country Teasers,
Fugazi,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Erykah Badu,
Joyce Sims,
Sixth Finger,
Mars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Trumans Water,
Rapeman,
Pantaleimon,
The Evens,
MDC,
Tommy Roe,
Freddie Wadling,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Clarke,
Funky Four + One,
Swans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Smiths,
Bobby Sherman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Finger,
Stetsasonic,
Fluxion,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.