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 South Sudan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 The Birthday Party to the grime 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Gories,
Hoover,
Barclay James Harvest,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Zero Boys,
the Association,
Desert Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Visage,
Dave Gahan,
The Names,
Robert Wyatt,
Gabor Szabo,
Joey Negro,
Hasil Adkins,
the Slits,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Groovy Waters,
Talk Talk,
The Busters,
Buzzcocks,
Mandrill,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bluetip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Young Marble Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Circle Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
Shoche,
Agitation Free,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zapp,
David Bowie,
Fugazi,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
MDC,
The Sonics,
The Slits,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dead Boys,
Supertramp,
Brothers Johnson,
Guru Guru,
Half Japanese,
Angry Samoans,
Scientists,
Nils Olav,
Television Personalities,
Bill Wells,
Al Stewart,
The Skatalites,
Man Parrish,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.