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 Portugal and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Residents to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Neu!,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Oblivians,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
Index,
FM Einheit,
New York Dolls,
The Happenings,
Spoonie Gee,
Oneida,
the Swans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Howard Jones,
The Gap Band,
MDC,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Angry Samoans,
Desert Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Shoche,
Circle Jerks,
Audionom,
Fear,
Barrington Levy,
Silicon Teens,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
China Crisis,
Jacob Miller,
One Last Wish,
Parry Music,
PIL,
Gang Green,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Inner City,
Maurizio,
Jerry's Kids,
Grauzone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Charles Mingus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Real Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rosa Yemen,
Funkadelic,
Nas,
Archie Shepp,
Bad Manners,
Roxette,
Dead Boys,
KRS-One,
Peter and Kerry,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.