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 Seychelles and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Adolescents 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Scientists,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tim Buckley,
Second Layer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Model 500,
The Monochrome Set,
Average White Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boredoms,
Massinfluence,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Index,
New York Dolls,
Animal Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skriet,
Bauhaus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Steve Hackett,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crooked Eye,
One Last Wish,
Suburban Knight,
Quadrant,
Pierre Henry,
The Fuzztones,
The Mummies,
JFA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minor Threat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Slave,
Public Enemy,
The Star Department,
Kenny Larkin,
DJ Sneak,
Procol Harum,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mad Mike,
The Motions,
48th St. Collective,
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare,
Soul II Soul,
Donny Hathaway,
Minnie Riperton,
Spandau Ballet,
Subhumans,
John Foxx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Smog,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.