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 Swaziland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba 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 Can to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Theoretical Girls,
David Bowie,
Goldenarms,
Freddie Wadling,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dirtbombs,
the Germs,
Soft Machine,
Delta 5,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Icehouse,
Unrelated Segments,
Section 25,
Nation of Ulysses,
Quadrant,
Barry Ungar,
Kerrie Biddell,
June Days,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed,
Minor Threat,
Anthony Braxton,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ponytail,
Pantytec,
The Happenings,
The Modern Lovers,
The Raincoats,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cure,
Warren Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James Chance & The Contortions,
World's Most,
Alphaville,
Ultravox,
The Names,
Japan,
Bootsy Collins,
Bronski Beat,
Organ,
the Normal,
The Star Department,
Wolf Eyes,
Erasure,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Panda Bear,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swans,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.