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 Bhutan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Adolescents to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Symarip,
The Fugs,
The Busters,
June Days,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
Darondo,
DNA,
Make Up,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Toasters,
cv313,
Main Source,
Bush Tetras,
Nils Olav,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Selecter,
Pylon,
Man Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Real Kids,
John Coltrane,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Flag,
Wire,
Juan Atkins,
Vainqueur,
kango's stein massive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Josef K,
Lindisfarne,
Henry Cow,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sixth Finger,
Newcleus,
AZ,
The Five Americans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chris Corsano,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Connie Case,
Crime,
Nico,
Danielle Patucci,
Supertramp,
Saccharine Trust,
Janne Schatter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bob Dylan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fall,
Howard Jones,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.