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 Swaziland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kevin Saunderson,
MDC,
The Evens,
The Wake,
Banda Bassotti,
Panda Bear,
Lebanon Hanover,
F. McDonald,
The J.B.'s,
The Victims,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Howard Jones,
the Association,
Lungfish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Smog,
Scientists,
The Real Kids,
The Mojo Men,
Rufus Thomas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers,
The Human League,
The Associates,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yellowson,
Sandy B,
The Saints,
A Certain Ratio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lyres,
Nils Olav,
Popol Vuh,
Kenny Larkin,
Donald Byrd,
The Cramps,
The Fuzztones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Idris Muhammad,
Outsiders,
Newcleus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barrington Levy,
The Divine Comedy,
Quando Quango,
Goldenarms,
The Sonics,
LL Cool J,
Cluster,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Todd Rundgren,
Dark Day,
UT,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Starr,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.