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 Guinea-Bissau and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cowsills,
Flipper,
Fugazi,
The Saints,
June Days,
F. McDonald,
Junior Murvin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mars,
The United States of America,
L. Decosne,
Mark Hollis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Derrick Morgan,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Cecil Taylor,
Adolescents,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minny Pops,
Niagra,
The Mojo Men,
Camberwell Now,
New Age Steppers,
Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Mo-Dettes,
Deepchord,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Throbbing Gristle,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lalann,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Panda Bear,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Wyatt,
Yazoo,
Los Fastidios,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Youth Brigade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Chrome,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers,
Susan Cadogan,
Judy Mowatt,
Sixth Finger,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.