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 Papua New Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Basic Channel to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator 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 synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Robert Görl,
Ultra Naté,
The Beau Brummels,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Bronski Beat,
Leonard Cohen,
Little Man,
Au Pairs,
The Real Kids,
Flipper,
Rosa Yemen,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Sheep,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sixth Finger,
Rod Modell,
Todd Rundgren,
James White and The Blacks,
The Music Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
K-Klass,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Womack,
John Lydon,
David Axelrod,
The Star Department,
Lucky Dragons,
Freddie Wadling,
Scratch Acid,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare,
Vladislav Delay,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arthur Verocai,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Flag,
Marcia Griffiths,
Silicon Teens,
Reuben Wilson,
Isaac Hayes,
Crash Course in Science,
Can,
The Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neu!,
Khruangbin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Camouflage,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Surgeon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.