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 Comoros and from Copenhagen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Fluxion,
Byron Stingily,
Aswad,
Peter and Kerry,
Jeff Lynne,
Das Ding,
Patti Smith,
B.T. Express,
The Divine Comedy,
Loose Ends,
New Age Steppers,
Infiniti,
Babytalk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magazine,
The Pretty Things,
The Gories,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ossler,
Slave,
Tres Demented,
Roy Ayers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deepchord,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vladislav Delay,
EPMD,
The Monks,
FM Einheit,
Tim Buckley,
Thompson Twins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wings,
Altered Images,
Kerri Chandler,
Absolute Body Control,
The Modern Lovers,
Nils Olav,
Newcleus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
In Retrospect,
Jeru the Damaja,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
D'Angelo,
Tom Boy,
Minny Pops,
Essential Logic,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
Grauzone,
Eli Mardock,
Duran Duran,
John Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Roxette,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.