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 Marshall Islands and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Cale to the punk 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lower 48,
Zapp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sam Rivers,
Mo-Dettes,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C,
Janne Schatter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Marmalade,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Fraelich,
Niagra,
Eli Mardock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Qualms,
Chris Corsano,
The J.B.'s,
Iggy Pop,
David Bowie,
The Golliwogs,
Saccharine Trust,
Ronan,
Lakeside,
The Evens,
Dead Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
Duran Duran,
Simply Red,
Skarface,
Popol Vuh,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cure,
Deakin,
The Residents,
Clear Light,
Patti Smith,
Subhumans,
Skriet,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swans,
The Velvet Underground,
Arcadia,
Pere Ubu,
The Barracudas,
Fad Gadget,
The Tremeloes,
The Fall,
Das Ding,
Alice Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Organ,
The Monks,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.