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 Liechtenstein and from Accra.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ituana to the grunge 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Residents,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kas Product,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doors,
Stiv Bators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Urselle,
Eurythmics,
Don Cherry,
Faust,
Index,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lakeside,
Cymande,
The Knickerbockers,
Hasil Adkins,
Au Pairs,
Mad Mike,
Suburban Knight,
The Slackers,
Main Source,
Arab on Radar,
Jandek,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DNA,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fuzztones,
Ornette Coleman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bluetip,
Kerrie Biddell,
Qualms,
B.T. Express,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Organ,
Marvin Gaye,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tom Boy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Symarip,
John Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Sixth Finger,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Minor Threat,
Sound Behaviour,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.