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 Swaziland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Television,
The Stooges,
Moss Icon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Walker Brothers,
Sparks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Q and Not U,
Massinfluence,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Normal,
Amon Düül II,
The Moody Blues,
Trumans Water,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Chris Corsano,
Severed Heads,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Hill,
UT,
Marine Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Real Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Association,
The Busters,
Roxette,
The Leaves,
Cluster,
The Victims,
Mad Mike,
Hot Snakes,
LL Cool J,
The Litter,
John Coltrane,
DNA,
Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dead C,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
Black Flag,
Deadbeat,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Byrd,
New York Dolls,
The Human League,
The Angels of Light,
Rufus Thomas,
The Five Americans,
Slick Rick,
Marvin Gaye,
Henry Cow,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.