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 Eritrea and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Man Eating Sloth to the techno 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron 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 sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sam Rivers,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cal Tjader,
Simply Red,
Archie Shepp,
Pierre Henry,
Ossler,
Subhumans,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Carl Craig,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lucky Dragons,
June of 44,
cv313,
Andrew Hill,
Wasted Youth,
Das Ding,
Massinfluence,
The Selecter,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Michelle Simonal,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Associates,
Malaria!,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
One Last Wish,
Gang of Four,
a-ha,
Sparks,
Fugazi,
Ultra Naté,
Babytalk,
The Fugs,
Grauzone,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Byrd,
Mr. Review,
Schoolly D,
Man Parrish,
Bill Wells,
Hardrive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Moody Blues,
The Moleskins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Görl,
Ultravox,
Black Flag,
Lakeside,
Dawn Penn,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.