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 Micronesia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 David Bowie 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 Erykah Badu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
The Blackbyrds,
Lightning Bolt,
Sight & Sound,
Joey Negro,
Junior Murvin,
Jawbox,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Interpol,
Tres Demented,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Alarm Clocks,
Underground Resistance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Fraelich,
Gichy Dan,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aloha Tigers,
John Foxx,
Ultravox,
Gong,
June Days,
the Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
The Golliwogs,
Mad Mike,
The Remains,
The Smoke,
Tim Buckley,
The United States of America,
Make Up,
The Martian,
Kurtis Blow,
Mo-Dettes,
Jesper Dahlback,
David Bowie,
Steve Hackett,
John Lydon,
Supertramp,
Carl Craig,
Half Japanese,
Ossler,
Jacob Miller,
Barrington Levy,
Alison Limerick,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Toasters,
Graham Central Station,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rotary Connection,
Symarip,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Monks,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.