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 Finland and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Black Bananas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quando Quango,
Robert Görl,
The Techniques,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
Graham Central Station,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faraquet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New Age Steppers,
Aaron Thompson,
Amon Düül,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Donald Byrd,
The Smoke,
Silicon Teens,
The Residents,
Nils Olav,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Stooges,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Negative Approach,
Nirvana,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
World's Most,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
cv313,
Pantaleimon,
Outsiders,
Andrew Hill,
Bang On A Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Barbara Tucker,
Pylon,
a-ha,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tim Buckley,
LL Cool J,
Lalann,
Scott Walker,
Symarip,
Joey Negro,
Sight & Sound,
Easy Going,
Skaos,
Bobby Womack,
Robert Hood,
Ossler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dead Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Eden Ahbez,
Nick Fraelich,
Skarface,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cecil Taylor,
H. Thieme,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.