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 Pakistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Bad Manners,
The Slackers,
T.S.O.L.,
Faust,
Eric Copeland,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Crash Course in Science,
Swell Maps,
L. Decosne,
Drive Like Jehu,
The United States of America,
Make Up,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Icehouse,
Mandrill,
Agitation Free,
Nick Fraelich,
Scrapy,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Five Americans,
Cecil Taylor,
Cameo,
Ituana,
Pagans,
Faraquet,
The Index,
Robert Hood,
Fad Gadget,
John Foxx,
Radio Birdman,
Stetsasonic,
Junior Murvin,
Adolescents,
Marc Almond,
Blossom Toes,
Soul Sonic Force,
June of 44,
Organ,
Dave Gahan,
D'Angelo,
Spandau Ballet,
Charles Mingus,
Davy DMX,
Aloha Tigers,
Young Marble Giants,
Mr. Review,
Eden Ahbez,
Popol Vuh,
The Cure,
Nas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
cv313,
Inner City,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.