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 Greece and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 The American Breed 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Franke,
Donald Byrd,
Tres Demented,
Danielle Patucci,
Ken Boothe,
Faust,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lungfish,
Graham Central Station,
Pylon,
Hardrive,
Grey Daturas,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-101,
The Vogues,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rotary Connection,
Deakin,
The Young Rascals,
The Martian,
Joensuu 1685,
Al Stewart,
The Fugs,
The Saints,
the Swans,
Guru Guru,
Jandek,
Babytalk,
Soulsonic Force,
Crispian St. Peters,
Derrick Morgan,
The Mummies,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Motorama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pulsallama,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
A Certain Ratio,
Arab on Radar,
Brass Construction,
The Grass Roots,
Aural Exciters,
Quantec,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mission of Burma,
The Pretty Things,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cramps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Niagra,
Icehouse,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shoche,
8 Eyed Spy,
Henry Cow,
Agitation Free,
Godley & Creme,
Barry Ungar,
Harmonia,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.