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 France and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Leaves,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nik Kershaw,
The Residents,
Porter Ricks,
Suburban Knight,
Zero Boys,
Agitation Free,
Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Aaron Thompson,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
Ossler,
Underground Resistance,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Groovy Waters,
Swans,
The Velvet Underground,
Qualms,
Henry Cow,
Buzzcocks,
the Sonics,
Toni Rubio,
The Barracudas,
Q65,
Kool Moe Dee,
Max Romeo,
D'Angelo,
Banda Bassotti,
The Evens,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ten City,
Tubeway Army,
KRS-One,
Popol Vuh,
Newcleus,
Hasil Adkins,
Hashim,
Liliput,
Skarface,
Aswad,
The United States of America,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eurythmics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marmalade,
Intrusion,
Yaz,
Neu!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Pretty Things,
Traffic Nightmare,
Howard Jones,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.