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 Croatia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
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 clarinet 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Cheater Slicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Andrew Hill,
Pole,
Brand Nubian,
Minutemen,
John Lydon,
Boredoms,
Wolf Eyes,
Nils Olav,
Anakelly,
New York Dolls,
Stiv Bators,
James White and The Blacks,
Toni Rubio,
Maurizio,
Neil Young,
Au Pairs,
Accadde A,
Sparks,
Swans,
Zapp,
Trumans Water,
Fad Gadget,
The Slits,
The Smoke,
John Holt,
Gabor Szabo,
Half Japanese,
Magma,
Fela Kuti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cameo,
Ronnie Foster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cal Tjader,
Aural Exciters,
The Stooges,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Pretty Things,
Hasil Adkins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker,
Parry Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gories,
Young Marble Giants,
Junior Murvin,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Offenders,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.