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 Venezuela and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Motions to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Audionom,
Procol Harum,
Crash Course in Science,
China Crisis,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fugs,
Hot Snakes,
Monolake,
Malaria!,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fuzztones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerri Chandler,
Japan,
Joyce Sims,
Radio Birdman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Clarke,
The Five Americans,
Ossler,
Yellowson,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gun Club,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
Dead Boys,
Deepchord,
Excepter,
Todd Rundgren,
Index,
Jacob Miller,
The Gories,
Circle Jerks,
Ludus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalann,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Susan Cadogan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soulsonic Force,
One Last Wish,
Neil Young,
Yaz,
Junior Murvin,
The Black Dice,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare,
Little Man,
Archie Shepp,
Iggy Pop,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.