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 Andorra and from London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 The Dirtbombs to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Joe Smooth,
Arthur Verocai,
Swans,
Inner City,
Soul Sonic Force,
Icehouse,
Alphaville,
The J.B.'s,
Chris & Cosey,
Public Enemy,
Blake Baxter,
Lucky Dragons,
Thee Headcoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cheater Slicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Das Ding,
Agent Orange,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Henry Cow,
Radiohead,
Cybotron,
Hoover,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Bananas,
Sonic Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gap Band,
The Busters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Trumans Water,
Tubeway Army,
Man Parrish,
Rod Modell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Drexciya,
Ken Boothe,
Supertramp,
Public Image Ltd.,
Symarip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dark Day,
The Walker Brothers,
The Wake,
Goldenarms,
Schoolly D,
Morten Harket,
Sex Pistols,
Black Flag,
Ituana,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Can,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.