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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ponytail to the electroclash 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Hot Snakes,
Average White Band,
Hoover,
The Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Victims,
Maurizio,
The Gun Club,
Althea and Donna,
The Wake,
Aaron Thompson,
The Standells,
Motorama,
Glenn Branca,
Negative Approach,
The Selecter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Bauhaus,
The American Breed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Lynne,
Adolescents,
Joensuu 1685,
Soulsonic Force,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Green,
Q and Not U,
Lower 48,
Newcleus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Interpol,
Ohio Players,
Thompson Twins,
John Foxx,
Yazoo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
The Electric Prunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Soft Cell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dead Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
The Knickerbockers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Surgeon,
Lightning Bolt,
Eurythmics,
Goldenarms,
Unrelated Segments,
Deepchord,
Ponytail,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Flag,
John Lydon,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.