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 Maldives and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gichy Dan to the punk 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Gong,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chrome,
Charles Mingus,
Freddie Wadling,
Stereo Dub,
Yazoo,
Moby Grape,
Prince Buster,
The Stooges,
Pantytec,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
Jandek,
The Evens,
a-ha,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Glenn Branca,
Amon Düül II,
R.M.O.,
Sonic Youth,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
Average White Band,
The Busters,
Amazonics,
Delta 5,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Toni Rubio,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick May,
The Gories,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
World's Most,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rotary Connection,
Wire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
Drive Like Jehu,
Matthew Halsall,
Moebius,
Deepchord,
Lou Christie,
Camberwell Now,
FM Einheit,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
KRS-One,
The Walker Brothers,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Bauhaus,
Wally Richardson,
Jacques Brel,
Terrestrial Tones,
Babytalk,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.