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 Belgium and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the crunk 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Sonic Youth,
The Cure,
Flash Fearless,
Spandau Ballet,
UT,
Albert Ayler,
The Raincoats,
Mark Hollis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gong,
The Slackers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moss Icon,
Deepchord,
Television,
The Saints,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Janne Schatter,
Lindisfarne,
Byron Stingily,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lyres,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Grass Roots,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Vogues,
Ronan,
Scientists,
Dead Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Busters,
Reuben Wilson,
Charles Mingus,
Harry Pussy,
This Heat,
The Fortunes,
Ohio Players,
Vladislav Delay,
Freddie Wadling,
The United States of America,
Don Cherry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Aloha Tigers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Henry Cow,
Desert Stars,
Khruangbin,
Niagra,
The Smiths,
Minor Threat,
Quadrant,
Oneida,
Cymande,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Massinfluence,
Babytalk,
Absolute Body Control,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.