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 Iceland and from Jakarta.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Wally Richardson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Seeds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Country Teasers,
Derrick Morgan,
Ten City,
The Blackbyrds,
Ice-T,
Barry Ungar,
Excepter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultravox,
Wasted Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Shoche,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Kinks,
Sister Nancy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Terry,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pantaleimon,
Tears for Fears,
Pagans,
Harry Pussy,
Talk Talk,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers,
E-Dancer,
The Monochrome Set,
China Crisis,
Albert Ayler,
Moby Grape,
Con Funk Shun,
Steve Hackett,
Joyce Sims,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Womack,
Fela Kuti,
Sonic Youth,
Swans,
Symarip,
the Normal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Basic Channel,
Second Layer,
CMW,
F. McDonald,
Roger Hodgson,
The Remains,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.