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 Estonia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harry Pussy,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
Adolescents,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bill Wells,
Scientists,
AZ,
The Buckinghams,
Mark Hollis,
Lungfish,
Henry Cow,
Yellowson,
Terry Callier,
Black Sheep,
Magazine,
The Fugs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultra Naté,
John Cale,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hardrive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gun Club,
Deadbeat,
June of 44,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brick,
Derrick May,
The Neon Judgement,
Livin' Joy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Niagra,
Nico,
Rekid,
Moby Grape,
In Retrospect,
Heaven 17,
Kas Product,
The Motions,
Ituana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott Heron,
JFA,
The Zeros,
Piero Umiliani,
Darondo,
Procol Harum,
Anakelly,
The Five Americans,
Motorama,
This Heat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Matthew Bourne,
Lalann,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.