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 Brunei and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 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 Lungfish to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pere Ubu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
Franke,
The Grass Roots,
Mission of Burma,
Crime,
Sound Behaviour,
Monolake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Sonics,
T. Rex,
The Offenders,
Zero Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Golliwogs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Girls At Our Best!,
One Last Wish,
Saccharine Trust,
Stereo Dub,
Spandau Ballet,
Aural Exciters,
Lower 48,
Erasure,
Cameo,
Guru Guru,
Ken Boothe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
The Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Associates,
Camberwell Now,
David Bowie,
Jeff Lynne,
Henry Cow,
Suburban Knight,
Marine Girls,
The Real Kids,
The Residents,
Flamin' Groovies,
June of 44,
Oblivians,
Ultravox,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Almond,
R.M.O.,
Mad Mike,
The Searchers,
Little Man,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
The Dead C,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter & Gordon,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.