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 Mali and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minor Threat to the rock 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Lightning Bolt,
Howard Jones,
The Gladiators,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Duran Duran,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
H. Thieme,
The Moody Blues,
Wasted Youth,
Roxy Music,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
LL Cool J,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Grass Roots,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Wyatt,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wings,
Bauhaus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skriet,
Nils Olav,
David Axelrod,
Ponytail,
Jerry's Kids,
Rites of Spring,
The Invisible,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Searchers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Surgeon,
Shoche,
Joensuu 1685,
Kaleidoscope,
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
The Associates,
In Retrospect,
The Misunderstood,
June Days,
DJ Sneak,
Gang of Four,
Fat Boys,
ABC,
Khruangbin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dennis Brown,
Tim Buckley,
Rosa Yemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dawn Penn,
Jacques Brel,
Zapp,
Scientists,
The Happenings,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sällskapet,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.