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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alton Ellis to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Cecil Taylor,
Trumans Water,
Eric Copeland,
Vainqueur,
48th St. Collective,
The Gun Club,
L. Decosne,
The Alarm Clocks,
China Crisis,
Slave,
Swans,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wire,
Robert Görl,
ABC,
Sparks,
New Order,
Stereo Dub,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bob Dylan,
Royal Trux,
John Foxx,
Rekid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
June of 44,
Junior Murvin,
E-Dancer,
New York Dolls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
R.M.O.,
Ultimate Spinach,
8 Eyed Spy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Can,
Quadrant,
Bluetip,
The Gories,
Sonic Youth,
Sight & Sound,
D'Angelo,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Pop Group,
Don Cherry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Smiths,
John Holt,
The Fortunes,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.