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 Tonga and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crash Course in Science to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Livin' Joy,
Gichy Dan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eurythmics,
The Kinks,
The Barracudas,
Pussy Galore,
The Raincoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Electric Prunes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
cv313,
The Fugs,
The Index,
The Doors,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Görl,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gap Band,
Albert Ayler,
The Martian,
Procol Harum,
Man Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Silicon Teens,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Mills,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gladiators,
Moebius,
Scientists,
Eric Copeland,
The Busters,
The Litter,
Laurel Aitken,
June of 44,
The Seeds,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
Minutemen,
Cymande,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Sherman,
The Happenings,
Agent Orange,
Organ,
Fear,
X-Ray Spex,
Echospace,
Cybotron,
Nirvana,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
Sandy B,
Camberwell Now,
ABBA,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.