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 Nicaragua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brothers Johnson to the techno 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Unwound,
Gabor Szabo,
The Offenders,
X-101,
R.M.O.,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Motions,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Infiniti,
10cc,
Johnny Clarke,
Brick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mandrill,
The Stooges,
ABBA,
Motorama,
Reuben Wilson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rakim,
Lou Christie,
the Soft Cell,
Vainqueur,
AZ,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kurtis Blow,
Little Man,
Crooked Eye,
U.S. Maple,
cv313,
David Bowie,
Aswad,
New York Dolls,
H. Thieme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jesper Dahlback,
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Bananas,
Agent Orange,
Spoonie Gee,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
Section 25,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fat Boys,
Joe Finger,
Accadde A,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nik Kershaw,
Camberwell Now,
Organ,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.