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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Techniques to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Görl,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agent Orange,
Arthur Verocai,
Freddie Wadling,
The Pretty Things,
Skriet,
The United States of America,
The Saints,
Masters at Work,
Bill Wells,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Qualms,
Wire,
Lower 48,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Christie,
Fat Boys,
Amazonics,
Dennis Brown,
Alton Ellis,
Scientists,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Happenings,
The Grass Roots,
Gichy Dan,
Mr. Review,
The Dirtbombs,
This Heat,
Inner City,
Carl Craig,
the Association,
Fluxion,
Boredoms,
Smog,
AZ,
R.M.O.,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
Kurtis Blow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minnie Riperton,
Subhumans,
Lakeside,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Sherman,
Piero Umiliani,
Scion,
Lalann,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
The Neon Judgement,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
The New Christs,
Interpol,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.