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 Congo and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar 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 Ronnie Foster to the grunge 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Association,
The Doobie Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Crooked Eye,
Lucky Dragons,
Siglo XX,
Hashim,
the Slits,
Blancmange,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Godley & Creme,
Rod Modell,
Excepter,
Japan,
Inner City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Davy DMX,
Cameo,
Sonic Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Pierre Henry,
Interpol,
The Dead C,
Kas Product,
Amon Düül II,
Boz Scaggs,
T.S.O.L.,
Sandy B,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unrelated Segments,
David Axelrod,
X-102,
Maurizio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arab on Radar,
The Five Americans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rufus Thomas,
The Leaves,
Blossom Toes,
The Remains,
The Slits,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wire,
Stereo Dub,
Sister Nancy,
Radiohead,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
The Litter,
Jawbox,
Hardrive,
Subhumans,
Eric Copeland,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gichy Dan,
The Seeds,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.