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 Antigua and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Susan Cadogan to the punk 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Arthur Verocai,
Mantronix,
Pagans,
The Offenders,
Hoover,
World's Most,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alison Limerick,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Birthday Party,
Procol Harum,
Barbara Tucker,
Junior Murvin,
Anthony Braxton,
In Retrospect,
Q and Not U,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Thompson Twins,
Public Image Ltd.,
H. Thieme,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Kas Product,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mark Hollis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
One Last Wish,
Urselle,
The Mummies,
Marine Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pantytec,
Toni Rubio,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Matthew Bourne,
Letta Mbulu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terry Callier,
Mo-Dettes,
New York Dolls,
CMW,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Los Fastidios,
The Fortunes,
the Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delon & Dalcan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aloha Tigers,
Adolescents,
Arab on Radar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deepchord,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.