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 Japan and from New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pere Ubu to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Suicide,
KRS-One,
Tres Demented,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cheater Slicks,
Pylon,
K-Klass,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
Technova,
The Real Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Don Cherry,
Fear,
Mars,
Sister Nancy,
Dark Day,
Urselle,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
Bad Manners,
The Walker Brothers,
World's Most,
Fatback Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Residents,
Bobby Womack,
Scratch Acid,
Drive Like Jehu,
PIL,
Bobby Sherman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Invisible,
Colin Newman,
Bob Dylan,
Das Ding,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aural Exciters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barry Ungar,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Warsaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marvin Gaye,
Mo-Dettes,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Hood,
Zapp,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.