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 Togo and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Sandy B,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Darondo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gladiators,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mars,
Terry Callier,
Excepter,
JFA,
Rufus Thomas,
Andrew Hill,
World's Most,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Japan,
Wally Richardson,
The New Christs,
the Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Unwound,
Scion,
Ten City,
Prince Buster,
Aural Exciters,
Eurythmics,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
Black Flag,
Minny Pops,
Ornette Coleman,
The Misunderstood,
Von Mondo,
Lou Christie,
Idris Muhammad,
Susan Cadogan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Liliput,
Magazine,
Scan 7,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Slick Rick,
The J.B.'s,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Amon Düül,
In Retrospect,
F. McDonald,
The Litter,
Brand Nubian,
Isaac Hayes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yazoo,
Kerri Chandler,
Soul II Soul,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.