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 Tanzania and from New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Lightning Bolt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars 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?
Gang of Four,
Throbbing Gristle,
Underground Resistance,
Shoche,
Interpol,
Bad Manners,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Chris & Cosey,
the Human League,
LL Cool J,
Pylon,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
The Young Rascals,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Toni Rubio,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Lynne,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Mo-Dettes,
Nas,
The United States of America,
Ituana,
Scratch Acid,
Zapp,
Black Flag,
Albert Ayler,
Second Layer,
Joy Division,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Avey Tare,
Rod Modell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott Heron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Franke,
DNA,
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Hood,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
New York Dolls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slits,
Peter & Gordon,
The Seeds,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.