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 Colombia and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Nation of Ulysses to the crunk 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Lungfish,
Arcadia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Niagra,
Lower 48,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
Pussy Galore,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pole,
PIL,
Flash Fearless,
Harry Pussy,
Index,
Sonic Youth,
Harmonia,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Womack,
Minor Threat,
Tears for Fears,
Ossler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Beasts of Bourbon,
MC5,
Joy Division,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlback,
DNA,
Gichy Dan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Audionom,
Hot Snakes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang On A Can,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Smiths,
Anakelly,
The Busters,
Terry Callier,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dual Sessions,
Monolake,
Stetsasonic,
Tomorrow,
The Gories,
Funky Four + One,
Severed Heads,
Wire,
John Holt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Can,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joe Smooth,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Residents,
Lakeside,
Bauhaus,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.