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 Swaziland and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Amon Düül to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
The American Breed,
Mission of Burma,
Rites of Spring,
Barbara Tucker,
Urselle,
ABBA,
The Victims,
In Retrospect,
Little Man,
Faust,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Wyatt,
Al Stewart,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
The Searchers,
John Lydon,
Skarface,
Michelle Simonal,
Pantaleimon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things,
Clear Light,
The Fuzztones,
Make Up,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chris Corsano,
The Moody Blues,
Steve Hackett,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators,
Alphaville,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Groovy Waters,
Nas,
Rod Modell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brand Nubian,
The Birthday Party,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
The New Christs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soulsonic Force,
Main Source,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Residents,
The Fugs,
Bluetip,
Dead Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Desert Stars,
June Days,
Brothers Johnson,
Blancmange,
Black Bananas,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.