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 Ethiopia and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Camouflage to the electroclash 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Terry,
Panda Bear,
Sun Ra,
June Days,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Smooth,
the Slits,
Rekid,
Alice Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Moss Icon,
The Five Americans,
Accadde A,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eurythmics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Basic Channel,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
Siglo XX,
KRS-One,
Pantytec,
Sound Behaviour,
Gregory Isaacs,
Godley & Creme,
Desert Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jerry's Kids,
Essential Logic,
Stereo Dub,
Boz Scaggs,
Agitation Free,
Altered Images,
Quadrant,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nick Fraelich,
Monolake,
Neu!,
Janne Schatter,
Amazonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Warren Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Byron Stingily,
Shoche,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Barry Ungar,
The Last Poets,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
kango's stein massive,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.