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 Suriname and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar 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 Rekid to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Trumans Water,
Wire,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soft Cell,
The Moleskins,
Man Parrish,
Audionom,
Public Enemy,
The Monochrome Set,
One Last Wish,
Radiohead,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Shuggie Otis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Ken Boothe,
Bang On A Can,
Stetsasonic,
Bob Dylan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Al Stewart,
The Fuzztones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siglo XX,
DJ Sneak,
The Fall,
Infiniti,
The Gun Club,
Bronski Beat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Surgeon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Tremeloes,
Archie Shepp,
L. Decosne,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Misunderstood,
Skriet,
Make Up,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gabor Szabo,
The Red Krayola,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Colin Newman,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers,
the Normal,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.