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 Nauru and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Colin Newman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wake. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fire Engines,
New Order,
Joey Negro,
The Angels of Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Wake,
Alison Limerick,
Stetsasonic,
Outsiders,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fall,
Nas,
Mars,
Byron Stingily,
Rekid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dirtbombs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Reed,
Patti Smith,
Joy Division,
Oblivians,
Pole,
cv313,
Cheater Slicks,
Piero Umiliani,
Cybotron,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rapeman,
Andrew Hill,
David Axelrod,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mo-Dettes,
The New Christs,
Stiv Bators,
The Offenders,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camouflage,
Duran Duran,
Magazine,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
A Certain Ratio,
Michelle Simonal,
The Litter,
Animal Collective,
Chrome,
Soft Machine,
Theoretical Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
DNA,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.