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 Bhutan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jandek to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Sam Rivers,
Motorama,
Eli Mardock,
Oblivians,
June Days,
Chrome,
Bobby Womack,
Scientists,
Con Funk Shun,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
Camouflage,
Technova,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
cv313,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pagans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Lynne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kerri Chandler,
Magazine,
Rites of Spring,
Bush Tetras,
Harmonia,
Gichy Dan,
10cc,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sandy B,
Mandrill,
Tres Demented,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liliput,
Iggy Pop,
Camberwell Now,
Japan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kayak,
Amon Düül,
Lalo Schifrin,
Morten Harket,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Urselle,
Unwound,
The Angels of Light,
Altered Images,
Sparks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zero Boys,
R.M.O.,
Fela Kuti,
June of 44,
The Doors,
CMW,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.