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 Macedonia and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minor Threat to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Zapp,
Moebius,
Dave Gahan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pierre Henry,
The Velvet Underground,
Sight & Sound,
The Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
Harmonia,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Crash Course in Science,
Masters at Work,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aural Exciters,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Swans,
A Certain Ratio,
Eve St. Jones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeru the Damaja,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cameo,
Albert Ayler,
Soft Cell,
Amon Düül II,
Hot Snakes,
Subhumans,
Joe Smooth,
the Germs,
Freddie Wadling,
Con Funk Shun,
Dual Sessions,
Malaria!,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris Corsano,
The Young Rascals,
Pulsallama,
Unwound,
K-Klass,
Panda Bear,
E-Dancer,
Banda Bassotti,
Howard Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oblivians,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rhythm & Sound,
KRS-One,
Sex Pistols,
F. McDonald,
Connie Case,
Lee Hazlewood,
Henry Cow,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.