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 Zambia and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Heaven 17 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Deepchord,
Cal Tjader,
Pantaleimon,
Aural Exciters,
Skarface,
Freddie Wadling,
The Neon Judgement,
Tommy Roe,
Isaac Hayes,
Suburban Knight,
One Last Wish,
Hardrive,
Rufus Thomas,
Reuben Wilson,
Newcleus,
The American Breed,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gories,
Model 500,
Terry Callier,
Jawbox,
The Litter,
Nik Kershaw,
Japan,
Infiniti,
The Grass Roots,
Technova,
MC5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Silicon Teens,
Chris Corsano,
Man Parrish,
John Holt,
The Skatalites,
Average White Band,
The Trojans,
Moebius,
Gichy Dan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scrapy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
The Dirtbombs,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mad Mike,
Minutemen,
Pierre Henry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Pus,
The Residents,
Trumans Water,
Junior Murvin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Television,
Interpol,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.