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 Lille.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rap 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Red Krayola,
Black Flag,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Symarip,
DNA,
The Leaves,
Lucky Dragons,
Alton Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Juan Atkins,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare,
Camberwell Now,
Erasure,
Bang On A Can,
Qualms,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Copeland,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül II,
The Vogues,
Godley & Creme,
Chris Corsano,
Groovy Waters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Interpol,
Moebius,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül,
The Fall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hashim,
E-Dancer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
Negative Approach,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Grey Daturas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Selecter,
Altered Images,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter and Kerry,
Flipper,
Wire,
The Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Clear Light,
the Bar-Kays,
Deakin,
Livin' Joy,
Mr. Review,
Sound Behaviour,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.