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 the UAE and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oneida,
Slick Rick,
Peter and Kerry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brick,
The Fuzztones,
Rapeman,
Severed Heads,
Youth Brigade,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
Moby Grape,
Colin Newman,
Josef K,
Throbbing Gristle,
Q65,
The Searchers,
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Swans,
The Remains,
Qualms,
Second Layer,
Lungfish,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bill Wells,
The Birthday Party,
Harmonia,
Outsiders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cowsills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Neon Judgement,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Marine Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
a-ha,
Jawbox,
The Happenings,
The Five Americans,
Skriet,
Wally Richardson,
Royal Trux,
Vainqueur,
Duran Duran,
Letta Mbulu,
Absolute Body Control,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marcia Griffiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Archie Shepp,
The Monks,
48th St. Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minor Threat,
Yellowson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.