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 Jamaica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum 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 Ossler to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mr. Review,
Pussy Galore,
the Sonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Das Ding,
Ponytail,
The Velvet Underground,
Bush Tetras,
Eric Copeland,
JFA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby,
B.T. Express,
The Music Machine,
Aswad,
Fatback Band,
Al Stewart,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang of Four,
China Crisis,
Black Pus,
Kaleidoscope,
The Index,
Scratch Acid,
Theoretical Girls,
Barrington Levy,
Josef K,
Carl Craig,
The Smoke,
Lebanon Hanover,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Lydon,
Guru Guru,
Maurizio,
Moebius,
Anthony Braxton,
Jandek,
Zero Boys,
Skaos,
The Remains,
The Grass Roots,
Althea and Donna,
Brass Construction,
These Immortal Souls,
Niagra,
Chris Corsano,
Hasil Adkins,
Neil Young,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Doors,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.