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 Australia and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 The Cramps to the punk 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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Tremeloes,
The Cowsills,
Todd Rundgren,
Minutemen,
Easy Going,
Eric Copeland,
Dead Boys,
Black Flag,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terrestrial Tones,
a-ha,
Kas Product,
The Count Five,
B.T. Express,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Searchers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Clear Light,
The Moleskins,
Tom Boy,
Brass Construction,
Mark Hollis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chrome,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rapeman,
Sällskapet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Outsiders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantaleimon,
The Gun Club,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
CMW,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
Roger Hodgson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rufus Thomas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Names,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
Khruangbin,
E-Dancer,
Deadbeat,
Newcleus,
The Gories,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
The Monochrome Set,
Basic Channel,
the Association,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
Crime,
Susan Cadogan,
Gabor Szabo,
Crooked Eye,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.