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 Venezuela and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Y Pants,
Soft Cell,
Harmonia,
Goldenarms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Christie,
Motorama,
The Moleskins,
Althea and Donna,
Monolake,
The Raincoats,
Ronan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radio Birdman,
Nirvana,
The Golliwogs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alison Limerick,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
Country Teasers,
Jerry's Kids,
Nils Olav,
H. Thieme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Sparks,
Intrusion,
X-Ray Spex,
Blake Baxter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
Bizarre Inc.,
New York Dolls,
Iggy Pop,
Flipper,
Qualms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sixth Finger,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
Amon Düül,
Chrome,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Smooth,
Negative Approach,
Second Layer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Vogues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Invisible,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Warsaw,
Franke,
a-ha,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.