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 Portugal and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Kevin Saunderson to the grunge 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Boredoms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
The Seeds,
The Happenings,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barrington Levy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Von Mondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Talk Talk,
Basic Channel,
Black Sheep,
Scion,
This Heat,
Eddi Front,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Bananas,
Rakim,
Massinfluence,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Bad Manners,
T. Rex,
Saccharine Trust,
Little Man,
Sandy B,
The Evens,
Cal Tjader,
Metal Thangz,
Mad Mike,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fire Engines,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hardrive,
Can,
Thompson Twins,
The Fall,
The Remains,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Matthew Halsall,
PIL,
ABBA,
The Blackbyrds,
ABC,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fela Kuti,
The Birthday Party,
Iggy Pop,
UT,
the Swans,
Bob Dylan,
Scientists,
David Axelrod,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Slits,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.