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 Turkey and from Bremen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the punk 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Groovy Waters,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Cell,
Stetsasonic,
Janne Schatter,
The Raincoats,
Section 25,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Massinfluence,
Ossler,
Archie Shepp,
Porter Ricks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
48th St. Collective,
Slave,
The Dirtbombs,
The Motions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glenn Branca,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Hill,
The Cramps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Al Stewart,
Mad Mike,
Organ,
Brick,
Drexciya,
Faust,
Black Sheep,
Black Pus,
The Slits,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kas Product,
Camouflage,
Eve St. Jones,
Bluetip,
Jeff Lynne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Trumans Water,
Jawbox,
The Gap Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bronski Beat,
These Immortal Souls,
Radio Birdman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Desert Stars,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Joe Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boredoms,
Pere Ubu,
Echospace,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.