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 Macedonia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Traffic Nightmare to the rap 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Hot Snakes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Junior Murvin,
Niagra,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sixth Finger,
The Walker Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
JFA,
Rosa Yemen,
Scott Walker,
Schoolly D,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalann,
10cc,
The Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Organ,
Glambeats Corp.,
Glenn Branca,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
Sister Nancy,
Khruangbin,
Essential Logic,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
The Gun Club,
Dual Sessions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultravox,
Cheater Slicks,
The Barracudas,
Cal Tjader,
Idris Muhammad,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Association,
New York Dolls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bad Manners,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
Lyres,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gabor Szabo,
Eurythmics,
Icehouse,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fear,
Hardrive,
The Residents,
The Human League,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barry Ungar,
Spandau Ballet,
Joe Smooth,
Kaleidoscope,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.