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 Pakistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terrestrial Tones to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Basic Channel,
Lindisfarne,
Neu!,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bang On A Can,
Hasil Adkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minor Threat,
The Toasters,
The Divine Comedy,
Joe Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Bill Wells,
The Raincoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gories,
Little Man,
The Music Machine,
Ultra Naté,
The Count Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Real Kids,
Siglo XX,
Stiv Bators,
Arab on Radar,
Chris & Cosey,
Freddie Wadling,
Swell Maps,
Wings,
Mad Mike,
Nirvana,
Maurizio,
kango's stein massive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joensuu 1685,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Maleditus Sound,
Niagra,
Crash Course in Science,
X-102,
Radiohead,
Metal Thangz,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dead C,
Tim Buckley,
The Names,
Yellowson,
Visage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tommy Roe,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.