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 Belgium and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cosmic Jokers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
DJ Sneak,
The Standells,
The Electric Prunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pantaleimon,
Adolescents,
Cybotron,
June of 44,
John Foxx,
Fatback Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sarah Menescal,
KRS-One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
AZ,
Arcadia,
Aloha Tigers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dirtbombs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Buckinghams,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pylon,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
Lindisfarne,
Alice Coltrane,
B.T. Express,
Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blossom Toes,
Derrick May,
Monolake,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Franke,
Jeff Lynne,
Mars,
Alton Ellis,
Scrapy,
Kayak,
The Cowsills,
Brass Construction,
Inner City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tears for Fears,
Peter & Gordon,
Soulsonic Force,
The Litter,
Mad Mike,
Gastr Del Sol,
Colin Newman,
Ultravox,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.