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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Smiths to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DNA,
The Toasters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gichy Dan,
Dave Gahan,
Sun City Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Malaria!,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drexciya,
Josef K,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonny Sharrock,
Johnny Clarke,
James White and The Blacks,
Massinfluence,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hoover,
a-ha,
Byron Stingily,
Nils Olav,
Franke,
Junior Murvin,
Cymande,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Black Dice,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Unwound,
The Residents,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Shoche,
Grauzone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boredoms,
Panda Bear,
The Wake,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
The Stooges,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Faust,
Aural Exciters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Loose Ends,
The Saints,
Eurythmics,
Wire,
Hardrive,
Alphaville,
Goldenarms,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.