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 Maldives and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Spitz.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Scrapy,
The Litter,
Dave Gahan,
Mad Mike,
Stetsasonic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pagans,
Theoretical Girls,
MC5,
Y Pants,
Country Teasers,
Desert Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Malaria!,
Sixth Finger,
The Neon Judgement,
Symarip,
Pussy Galore,
Average White Band,
John Foxx,
Scratch Acid,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Moby Grape,
Newcleus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Swans,
Albert Ayler,
Thompson Twins,
Smog,
DJ Sneak,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Arab on Radar,
Ituana,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Organ,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Buzzcocks,
The Cure,
Fat Boys,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Judy Mowatt,
Joe Smooth,
Rod Modell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Slick Rick,
Visage,
Wasted Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
The Searchers,
Deepchord,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.