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 Nicaragua and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 The Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Golliwogs,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
Vainqueur,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
T. Rex,
Mission of Burma,
Sällskapet,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Franke,
FM Einheit,
Sex Pistols,
The Music Machine,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott Heron,
Newcleus,
Derrick Morgan,
Moby Grape,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The J.B.'s,
F. McDonald,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oblivians,
The Birthday Party,
Kool Moe Dee,
Charles Mingus,
Ronnie Foster,
The Associates,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Don Cherry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smoke,
Parry Music,
B.T. Express,
Y Pants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Vogues,
Crime,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dennis Brown,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Erasure,
Smog,
Agitation Free,
Rapeman,
Freddie Wadling,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.