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 Guinea-Bissau and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Red Krayola to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
The Residents,
John Foxx,
Quantec,
Scion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hashim,
Radiohead,
Albert Ayler,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aural Exciters,
Magma,
The Zeros,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swell Maps,
Mars,
Suicide,
Q65,
Lou Reed,
The American Breed,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boredoms,
Slave,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Pantytec,
Sandy B,
Ultravox,
Wasted Youth,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kurtis Blow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sight & Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
The Alarm Clocks,
Schoolly D,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hasil Adkins,
Groovy Waters,
Thee Headcoats,
The Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
David Bowie,
Easy Going,
Michelle Simonal,
Bad Manners,
Donny Hathaway,
The Smoke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Index,
Clear Light,
B.T. Express,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-Ray Spex,
David McCallum,
The Misunderstood,
Chris Corsano,
Eve St. Jones,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.