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 Liberia and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Happenings to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
AZ,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Womack,
cv313,
Siglo XX,
Judy Mowatt,
The Red Krayola,
Sparks,
Whodini,
Franke,
Clear Light,
Eric Copeland,
Section 25,
Ossler,
Minor Threat,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Moon,
The Invisible,
Cecil Taylor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Last Poets,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quantec,
Cybotron,
the Association,
The Buckinghams,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lucky Dragons,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
Barclay James Harvest,
The New Christs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Moss Icon,
UT,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anakelly,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dave Gahan,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Hood,
Second Layer,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bronski Beat,
Althea and Donna,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.