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 Thailand and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mantronix to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABC,
Kerrie Biddell,
The New Christs,
Television,
Absolute Body Control,
The Toasters,
Derrick May,
June of 44,
Rakim,
The Misunderstood,
Echospace,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
The Kinks,
Pylon,
The Victims,
The Sonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
Camberwell Now,
Piero Umiliani,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Velvet Underground,
Quando Quango,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alison Limerick,
The Detroit Cobras,
One Last Wish,
The Gap Band,
The Moleskins,
Gang of Four,
Graham Central Station,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marine Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Roger Hodgson,
ABBA,
Agent Orange,
Skriet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tommy Roe,
The Raincoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cramps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drexciya,
Metal Thangz,
E-Dancer,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roxy Music,
The Star Department,
Dead Boys,
The Remains,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.