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 Tuvalu and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Nation of Ulysses to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Barclay James Harvest,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smoke,
This Heat,
Intrusion,
New Age Steppers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Toasters,
The Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Television,
Sight & Sound,
Japan,
The Mummies,
Aaron Thompson,
Blake Baxter,
Eve St. Jones,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rod Modell,
Agent Orange,
Das Ding,
Wally Richardson,
Skriet,
The Cure,
the Association,
Drive Like Jehu,
Inner City,
Dave Gahan,
Alison Limerick,
Chris & Cosey,
Mary Jane Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultravox,
R.M.O.,
Depeche Mode,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nirvana,
Stockholm Monsters,
Malaria!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Max Romeo,
Tears for Fears,
Hot Snakes,
Bush Tetras,
The Kinks,
Popol Vuh,
Lalann,
Index,
Maleditus Sound,
Deadbeat,
U.S. Maple,
Make Up,
Alice Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Fatback Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Funkadelic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.