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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 the Germs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Velvet Underground,
The Buckinghams,
Hardrive,
Prince Buster,
The Offenders,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mad Mike,
Black Flag,
Fad Gadget,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Urselle,
The Last Poets,
Anakelly,
Pole,
Barry Ungar,
Pierre Henry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
Terry Callier,
The Birthday Party,
Visage,
Tom Boy,
Sex Pistols,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wally Richardson,
Desert Stars,
Agitation Free,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Christie,
The Modern Lovers,
Arcadia,
Crime,
Nik Kershaw,
Soft Machine,
Vainqueur,
Flamin' Groovies,
Los Fastidios,
The Saints,
The Zeros,
DJ Style,
Radio Birdman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Youth Brigade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Q65,
Quantec,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.