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 Hungary 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alice Coltrane to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Nico,
Khruangbin,
kango's stein massive,
48th St. Collective,
The Slits,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
Josef K,
The American Breed,
UT,
Pantytec,
Faraquet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Birthday Party,
Skriet,
Lakeside,
The Buckinghams,
John Lydon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tom Boy,
Sällskapet,
Loose Ends,
Country Teasers,
Jacob Miller,
Kayak,
Sex Pistols,
Quadrant,
Second Layer,
EPMD,
Neil Young,
Scott Walker,
Pussy Galore,
K-Klass,
Alison Limerick,
Simply Red,
Cymande,
Brick,
Aural Exciters,
Terry Callier,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Star Department,
Infiniti,
Television Personalities,
Dawn Penn,
The Dirtbombs,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed,
Marvin Gaye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kas Product,
This Heat,
Arthur Verocai,
The Velvet Underground,
Warsaw,
The Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
The Gun Club,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.