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 Guyana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
John Holt,
Marc Almond,
the Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
Moby Grape,
The Pop Group,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soul II Soul,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harmonia,
Amon Düül,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Icehouse,
Neil Young,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
Dennis Brown,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Byrd,
These Immortal Souls,
Spoonie Gee,
Steve Hackett,
Ultravox,
Khruangbin,
Roger Hodgson,
Negative Approach,
Kas Product,
Aloha Tigers,
The Leaves,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wally Richardson,
The Index,
Faust,
The Electric Prunes,
Smog,
Roy Ayers,
Alton Ellis,
Section 25,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
Matthew Halsall,
Mark Hollis,
The Skatalites,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Zero Boys,
Juan Atkins,
K-Klass,
Theoretical Girls,
Colin Newman,
Quadrant,
Warren Ellis,
China Crisis,
Tres Demented,
Deadbeat,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.