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 Kyrgyzstan and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 DNA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Searchers,
Hashim,
JFA,
Bluetip,
Drive Like Jehu,
New Age Steppers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
Cybotron,
Glenn Branca,
Motorama,
Laurel Aitken,
Rod Modell,
Oneida,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wasted Youth,
The Seeds,
Circle Jerks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Bootsy Collins,
Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jandek,
Chris Corsano,
Ohio Players,
the Human League,
The Names,
The Busters,
Scientists,
Roy Ayers,
Moss Icon,
Royal Trux,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neu!,
The Stooges,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Buckinghams,
Marmalade,
Brick,
Lou Christie,
The Blues Magoos,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Archie Shepp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Anakelly,
Bill Near,
Ituana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grauzone,
The Gun Club,
Moebius,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Excepter,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.