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 Serbia and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Tremeloes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Underground Resistance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Q65,
Youth Brigade,
Jeff Mills,
Hot Snakes,
Deepchord,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slackers,
Junior Murvin,
Little Man,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
The Kinks,
Fad Gadget,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Golliwogs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Infiniti,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eddi Front,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Archie Shepp,
Ituana,
Tommy Roe,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grey Daturas,
Bush Tetras,
Amazonics,
Radio Birdman,
Wire,
Bluetip,
Television Personalities,
Anthony Braxton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
Altered Images,
Shuggie Otis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arthur Verocai,
Joe Finger,
Intrusion,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Smog,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Busters,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Görl,
Camouflage,
Minutemen,
The Birthday Party,
The J.B.'s,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.