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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 MC5 to the rock 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Crooked Eye,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Mills,
The Red Krayola,
Infiniti,
The Durutti Column,
Peter & Gordon,
Thompson Twins,
Rekid,
Mission of Burma,
World's Most,
Echospace,
Bluetip,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radio Birdman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Howard Jones,
Warsaw,
Johnny Osbourne,
China Crisis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Can,
Fatback Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Görl,
The Barracudas,
Roger Hodgson,
The Smiths,
Mad Mike,
Graham Central Station,
Derrick May,
Max Romeo,
Little Man,
Siglo XX,
Matthew Bourne,
Franke,
Moby Grape,
Black Pus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Silicon Teens,
Connie Case,
Bang On A Can,
The Leaves,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Index,
Average White Band,
The Pop Group,
This Heat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nas,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Bananas,
The United States of America,
Second Layer,
Kayak,
Anakelly,
Black Moon,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.