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 Colombia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flesh Eaters to the rap 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Normal,
Lou Christie,
T. Rex,
Grauzone,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sugar Minott,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls,
Das Ding,
Brothers Johnson,
Rites of Spring,
Gabor Szabo,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Index,
Essential Logic,
Mo-Dettes,
Model 500,
Reagan Youth,
OOIOO,
Dual Sessions,
The Seeds,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
Qualms,
Gang of Four,
Davy DMX,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Kinks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Howard Jones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blancmange,
The Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
June of 44,
Kerrie Biddell,
Audionom,
Q65,
Sparks,
Shoche,
Urselle,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Malaria!,
Eve St. Jones,
Kevin Saunderson,
DJ Sneak,
Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
Television,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed,
The Gladiators,
Darondo,
The Smiths,
Ultravox,
Half Japanese,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.