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 Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Absolute Body Control to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
R.M.O.,
The Fortunes,
Fad Gadget,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barrington Levy,
the Swans,
June of 44,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kenny Larkin,
Can,
Monolake,
Warren Ellis,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
Donald Byrd,
Joe Finger,
Juan Atkins,
Trumans Water,
The Durutti Column,
Urselle,
OOIOO,
Ludus,
X-102,
The Smiths,
Faust,
Wire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Simply Red,
Ken Boothe,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Altered Images,
Robert Hood,
UT,
Cymande,
The Vogues,
Faraquet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Graham Central Station,
Radiopuhelimet,
China Crisis,
The United States of America,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
X-101,
Aswad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mummies,
the Germs,
MDC,
Country Teasers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joyce Sims,
The Birthday Party,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sugar Minott,
The Evens,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.