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 Tanzania and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Siglo XX to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Five Americans,
Letta Mbulu,
Arab on Radar,
Suburban Knight,
David McCallum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fall,
Porter Ricks,
Moss Icon,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
Surgeon,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Charles Mingus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siglo XX,
Dead Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roxy Music,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Minny Pops,
Jacob Miller,
Lower 48,
Lou Christie,
Aswad,
The J.B.'s,
The Moody Blues,
Clear Light,
Nico,
Joyce Sims,
June Days,
James White and The Blacks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gories,
Maurizio,
Bluetip,
Tropical Tobacco,
Can,
Visage,
Black Flag,
Cheater Slicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
The Move,
Vainqueur,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spandau Ballet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Fela Kuti,
Desert Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
The Martian,
The Barracudas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.