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 Mozambique and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the electroclash 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
the Human League,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
Prince Buster,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Pus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cramps,
Brass Construction,
Metal Thangz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Neon Judgement,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Birthday Party,
Barclay James Harvest,
D'Angelo,
Matthew Halsall,
The Human League,
The Fugs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roxette,
June of 44,
Porter Ricks,
Connie Case,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Wake,
E-Dancer,
Cecil Taylor,
Scientists,
Rod Modell,
Quando Quango,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Chrome,
The Grass Roots,
Anakelly,
Harry Pussy,
Albert Ayler,
Maurizio,
Agitation Free,
The Moody Blues,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Görl,
Dark Day,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Swans,
Smog,
Sandy B,
Derrick Morgan,
X-Ray Spex,
Sound Behaviour,
EPMD,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.