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 Peru and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Radio Birdman to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABC,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
The Divine Comedy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Altered Images,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
Infiniti,
The Beau Brummels,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Janne Schatter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rites of Spring,
Wasted Youth,
Skarface,
The Slackers,
New Age Steppers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bronski Beat,
Wire,
Erasure,
Urselle,
Tropical Tobacco,
Toni Rubio,
Faust,
The Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
Blancmange,
Quantec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Green,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
The Wake,
X-102,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harmonia,
Iggy Pop,
The Standells,
In Retrospect,
Pierre Henry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Peter and Kerry,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
Duran Duran,
Excepter,
The Cure,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moss Icon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deepchord,
Panda Bear,
Sun City Girls,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.