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 Comoros and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 guitar 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 Jesper Dahlback to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Gang of Four,
Monolake,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quando Quango,
Arcadia,
Kerri Chandler,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Second Layer,
Porter Ricks,
Peter & Gordon,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Almond,
Colin Newman,
The Victims,
Archie Shepp,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Shuggie Otis,
Nils Olav,
Organ,
Mad Mike,
The Saints,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gladiators,
Scott Walker,
These Immortal Souls,
Public Image Ltd.,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
The Monochrome Set,
Electric Prunes,
Joe Finger,
Radiohead,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jawbox,
Heaven 17,
Vladislav Delay,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bootsy Collins,
Reagan Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sun Ra,
the Association,
Marvin Gaye,
Unrelated Segments,
Sonic Youth,
David McCallum,
Alphaville,
Terry Callier,
Eric Dolphy,
The Modern Lovers,
Barrington Levy,
The Pretty Things,
Yazoo,
Jacques Brel,
The Gun Club,
Buzzcocks,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.