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 Denmark and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
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 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 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 Animal Collective to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
The Monks,
Drexciya,
Hardrive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brass Construction,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Khruangbin,
Amon Düül,
Danielle Patucci,
Malaria!,
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Parrish,
Excepter,
Peter and Kerry,
D'Angelo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Junior Murvin,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy,
Mo-Dettes,
Arthur Verocai,
the Bar-Kays,
Carl Craig,
Fela Kuti,
T. Rex,
Eric Dolphy,
The Smiths,
Rekid,
Gil Scott Heron,
F. McDonald,
Joensuu 1685,
Barrington Levy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Loose Ends,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Prunes,
Roger Hodgson,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Near,
June Days,
Lalann,
Barbara Tucker,
James White and The Blacks,
Cal Tjader,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yusef Lateef,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
Quadrant,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jerry's Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Audionom,
Bush Tetras,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.