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 Turkmenistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the funk 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Rites of Spring,
Sister Nancy,
The United States of America,
Barrington Levy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Main Source,
Andrew Hill,
James White and The Blacks,
Nick Fraelich,
Crime,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Martian,
Charles Mingus,
Inner City,
Eddi Front,
Connie Case,
Peter and Kerry,
Fad Gadget,
Can,
The Dead C,
Unwound,
This Heat,
The Evens,
FM Einheit,
A Certain Ratio,
10cc,
Avey Tare,
Mantronix,
Crooked Eye,
The Dirtbombs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Lydon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Count Five,
Flipper,
Faraquet,
Skaos,
Joensuu 1685,
Fela Kuti,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Unrelated Segments,
Marine Girls,
Jandek,
Arthur Verocai,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
Bauhaus,
Porter Ricks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boredoms,
Lakeside,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lungfish,
The Sonics,
Y Pants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Urselle,
Pylon,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.