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 Italy and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sonics to the rock 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
ABC,
the Slits,
The Smoke,
John Lydon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
DNA,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Subhumans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Normal,
The Selecter,
Bush Tetras,
L. Decosne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
AZ,
Gabor Szabo,
The Moody Blues,
Roxette,
Eurythmics,
Sun City Girls,
Eddi Front,
Young Marble Giants,
8 Eyed Spy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mad Mike,
Con Funk Shun,
Q and Not U,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed,
Cluster,
Average White Band,
Marmalade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Heaven 17,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fat Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Anakelly,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Gang Dance,
Essential Logic,
Dark Day,
Fear,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roger Hodgson,
Joey Negro,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maurizio,
Deadbeat,
Scion,
Moss Icon,
Monks,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronnie Foster,
The Move,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gun Club,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.