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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the funk 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liliput,
Scratch Acid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Swell Maps,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The New Christs,
the Sonics,
Eli Mardock,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fall,
Zero Boys,
Colin Newman,
New Age Steppers,
Jandek,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
The Happenings,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dawn Penn,
KRS-One,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Invisible,
Matthew Bourne,
Icehouse,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Sheep,
Soul II Soul,
Au Pairs,
Average White Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Bowie,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Human League,
Amon Düül,
Sällskapet,
Tomorrow,
cv313,
T. Rex,
Skarface,
Alphaville,
Los Fastidios,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sunsets and Hearts,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Y Pants,
Lou Christie,
Spandau Ballet,
The Busters,
The Modern Lovers,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.