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 Zimbabwe and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sunsets and Hearts 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Darondo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Echospace,
Connie Case,
Bad Manners,
The Mojo Men,
Bush Tetras,
Roger Hodgson,
Moss Icon,
Little Man,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pagans,
Wolf Eyes,
Average White Band,
The Offenders,
Ice-T,
Andrew Hill,
Soft Cell,
Goldenarms,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Finger,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lee Hazlewood,
Television,
X-101,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monochrome Set,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crooked Eye,
Tommy Roe,
Funkadelic,
Sex Pistols,
The Misunderstood,
Don Cherry,
Alton Ellis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
Sun Ra,
The Litter,
L. Decosne,
Johnny Clarke,
Fear,
Avey Tare,
Organ,
Sun City Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joyce Sims,
Q and Not U,
The Moleskins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oneida,
Inner City,
Black Moon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moody Blues,
Cheater Slicks,
Symarip,
Nirvana,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.