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 Albania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Delta 5 to the grunge 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Black Dice,
Alison Limerick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Blossom Toes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Birthday Party,
Roxette,
Pole,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Germs,
The Beau Brummels,
Crash Course in Science,
Letta Mbulu,
Agent Orange,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hoover,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Michelle Simonal,
Wings,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donny Hathaway,
Unwound,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
The Seeds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Goldenarms,
Erykah Badu,
Brand Nubian,
La Düsseldorf,
Monolake,
Barrington Levy,
MDC,
The Selecter,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Organ,
the Human League,
John Cale,
One Last Wish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Colin Newman,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalann,
Bush Tetras,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Faust,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brass Construction,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Robert Görl,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.