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 the UAE and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
China Crisis,
Piero Umiliani,
CMW,
Fela Kuti,
MC5,
Sugar Minott,
Nico,
The Trojans,
Ken Boothe,
Wire,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vladislav Delay,
Deadbeat,
Lindisfarne,
Rites of Spring,
Symarip,
Pantytec,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Star Department,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Mills,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blancmange,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zero Boys,
Jawbox,
Skaos,
Yaz,
Leonard Cohen,
Adolescents,
Royal Trux,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
Fatback Band,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slackers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Standells,
Deepchord,
Moss Icon,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultra Naté,
Echospace,
This Heat,
Average White Band,
Bill Near,
Ossler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Peter and Kerry,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.