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 San Marino and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 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 Flesh Eaters to the punk 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Mantronix,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
This Heat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Skaos,
Cymande,
Sandy B,
Buzzcocks,
Qualms,
Siglo XX,
Minutemen,
Sällskapet,
Grauzone,
Faust,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Main Source,
Harmonia,
Anakelly,
The Happenings,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Slits,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
Hoover,
Von Mondo,
The Offenders,
the Swans,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Zapp,
Henry Cow,
Desert Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Aural Exciters,
The Blackbyrds,
Average White Band,
AZ,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dave Gahan,
Girls At Our Best!,
kango's stein massive,
In Retrospect,
Letta Mbulu,
Blancmange,
The Gladiators,
10cc,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drexciya,
David Axelrod,
Royal Trux,
Procol Harum,
X-Ray Spex,
The New Christs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amon Düül,
Jerry's Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Make Up,
Technova,
Spandau Ballet,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.