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 Kosovo and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pop Group to the grunge 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Barry Ungar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra,
Goldenarms,
PIL,
Monolake,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visage,
Eddi Front,
Oneida,
Hot Snakes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Misunderstood,
The Kinks,
Sound Behaviour,
Lucky Dragons,
MDC,
Andrew Hill,
The Searchers,
48th St. Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cowsills,
John Coltrane,
The Human League,
Radio Birdman,
Graham Central Station,
Darondo,
The Leaves,
Yazoo,
Donald Byrd,
Delon & Dalcan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tommy Roe,
Rakim,
Patti Smith,
Faust,
Altered Images,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Supertramp,
Jeff Lynne,
The J.B.'s,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wasted Youth,
Los Fastidios,
LL Cool J,
Jacob Miller,
Joey Negro,
Rufus Thomas,
Ossler,
Spoonie Gee,
Jerry's Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Rites of Spring,
The Saints,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agent Orange,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.