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 Bulgaria and from Tokyo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin 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 electroclash 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick Morgan,
Wire,
Bang On A Can,
Minny Pops,
Marmalade,
Arab on Radar,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
JFA,
Slick Rick,
K-Klass,
The Remains,
X-101,
Jandek,
The Gories,
Technova,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scott Walker,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Hutcherson,
cv313,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiohead,
Organ,
Half Japanese,
Main Source,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Suburban Knight,
Cheater Slicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DJ Sneak,
The Raincoats,
The Saints,
Echospace,
Mantronix,
Johnny Clarke,
Deakin,
The Techniques,
Kurtis Blow,
The Star Department,
Rod Modell,
Ice-T,
The Detroit Cobras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun City Girls,
Tommy Roe,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Normal,
The Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Doors,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erasure,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.