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 Solomon Islands and from Lagos.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Leaves,
Glenn Branca,
Joe Finger,
Motorama,
Livin' Joy,
Easy Going,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shoche,
Mr. Review,
The Grass Roots,
Neil Young,
Au Pairs,
Stereo Dub,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Sherman,
Marmalade,
The Gories,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Bananas,
Joey Negro,
Amon Düül,
Jacob Miller,
DJ Sneak,
New York Dolls,
Bauhaus,
The Knickerbockers,
Unrelated Segments,
The Wake,
Colin Newman,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names,
Soul II Soul,
Tears for Fears,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sällskapet,
Audionom,
Rakim,
Brand Nubian,
Popol Vuh,
Tim Buckley,
The Human League,
Flipper,
Robert Wyatt,
Cameo,
Pagans,
The Doobie Brothers,
June Days,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scrapy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Circle Jerks,
Scion,
Scott Walker,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nick Fraelich,
Barclay James Harvest,
DNA,
Derrick May,
DJ Style,
Zero Boys,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.