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 Belize and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Matthew Bourne to the grunge 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Underground Resistance,
Stiv Bators,
Don Cherry,
Average White Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sun Ra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vladislav Delay,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grey Daturas,
The Grass Roots,
Make Up,
The Human League,
The Doors,
The Divine Comedy,
The Standells,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
a-ha,
Qualms,
The Mummies,
Cheater Slicks,
Harmonia,
Howard Jones,
Babytalk,
Popol Vuh,
The Five Americans,
Subhumans,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unrelated Segments,
Blake Baxter,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
The Beau Brummels,
The Black Dice,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Smoke,
Soul Sonic Force,
Talk Talk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Skatalites,
Black Flag,
Nas,
Bauhaus,
The Wake,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Lydon,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Derrick Morgan,
Blossom Toes,
Q65,
The Victims,
Fad Gadget,
Althea and Donna,
Rapeman,
Lakeside,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.