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 Nepal and from New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Harpers Bizarre to the techno 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Blossom Toes,
Wire,
Johnny Clarke,
Drexciya,
the Soft Cell,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
The Black Dice,
Eric Dolphy,
Agent Orange,
Sugar Minott,
Nico,
Banda Bassotti,
Jandek,
Ludus,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fall,
Tim Buckley,
Juan Atkins,
Freddie Wadling,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Alison Limerick,
Ituana,
Wings,
Patti Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cameo,
The Human League,
Suburban Knight,
Easy Going,
Jeru the Damaja,
Simply Red,
Hot Snakes,
Rod Modell,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Moody Blues,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
The New Christs,
Joey Negro,
The Cowsills,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pylon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Electric Prunes,
ABC,
T. Rex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Quantec,
Subhumans,
The Trojans,
Vainqueur,
Au Pairs,
Bill Wells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick Morgan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Young Rascals,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.