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 Haiti and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Buckinghams to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Star Department,
Drexciya,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
The Detroit Cobras,
Simply Red,
Nico,
Little Man,
James White and The Blacks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lakeside,
The Searchers,
Roger Hodgson,
Aaron Thompson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gong,
One Last Wish,
Surgeon,
the Soft Cell,
Tom Boy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cowsills,
Ultravox,
Ten City,
Minutemen,
Arcadia,
Agitation Free,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions,
Adolescents,
Bluetip,
Scan 7,
Eurythmics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scientists,
Saccharine Trust,
Second Layer,
Niagra,
Franke,
Gang Starr,
Cymande,
Joe Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Nik Kershaw,
Make Up,
Henry Cow,
The Vogues,
Sister Nancy,
Subhumans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pylon,
DJ Style,
The Gories,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.