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 Mali and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Kayak,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
The Durutti Column,
Aswad,
Qualms,
The Dirtbombs,
X-101,
One Last Wish,
The Divine Comedy,
David McCallum,
Desert Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
DNA,
Von Mondo,
Zapp,
The Invisible,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
H. Thieme,
June of 44,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slackers,
Zero Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Connie Case,
Outsiders,
Country Teasers,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Five Americans,
The Star Department,
Dennis Brown,
Chrome,
Prince Buster,
Moby Grape,
The Associates,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Livin' Joy,
F. McDonald,
Lalann,
L. Decosne,
CMW,
Absolute Body Control,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delon & Dalcan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Echospace,
Scan 7,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.