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 Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Los Fastidios to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Chris Corsano,
Junior Murvin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DNA,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
L. Decosne,
Scientists,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Theoretical Girls,
Half Japanese,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bob Dylan,
Stetsasonic,
U.S. Maple,
ABC,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Busters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Darondo,
The Happenings,
Silicon Teens,
Interpol,
Khruangbin,
Vladislav Delay,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
Charles Mingus,
Mission of Burma,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Count Five,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Black Flag,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jawbox,
Magma,
Malaria!,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Human League,
Ultra Naté,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Searchers,
Soul II Soul,
Barbara Tucker,
Fad Gadget,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
The Kinks,
a-ha,
Mr. Review,
Yaz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Simply Red,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.