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 Chile and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the grime 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Danielle Patucci,
the Human League,
The Gories,
Marshall Jefferson,
Reagan Youth,
Von Mondo,
Popol Vuh,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
Bill Near,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
The Durutti Column,
Qualms,
kango's stein massive,
Warren Ellis,
Negative Approach,
Carl Craig,
the Soft Cell,
Jandek,
Slave,
This Heat,
Sun Ra,
Godley & Creme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sister Nancy,
Gang of Four,
The Residents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Starr,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Modern Lovers,
Zapp,
The Selecter,
Stiv Bators,
K-Klass,
Silicon Teens,
Absolute Body Control,
The Zeros,
Vainqueur,
Circle Jerks,
Guru Guru,
Eli Mardock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flash Fearless,
Stereo Dub,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marmalade,
The Move,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalann,
Animal Collective,
The Happenings,
JFA,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.