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 Argentina and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Niagra to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
K-Klass,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
Boredoms,
The Tremeloes,
Schoolly D,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
The Neon Judgement,
kango's stein massive,
The American Breed,
Suburban Knight,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moss Icon,
The Offenders,
Hardrive,
UT,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Juan Atkins,
Yazoo,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Nils Olav,
Aaron Thompson,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bush Tetras,
48th St. Collective,
La Düsseldorf,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flipper,
Grey Daturas,
June of 44,
The Raincoats,
Deadbeat,
Skriet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Half Japanese,
Leonard Cohen,
Thee Headcoats,
Arcadia,
Make Up,
Girls At Our Best!,
Panda Bear,
Mars,
PIL,
Blossom Toes,
Can,
Alton Ellis,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers,
Mo-Dettes,
Quando Quango,
Stiv Bators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.