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 Belize and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Smog to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mummies,
Wire,
The Modern Lovers,
Dead Boys,
Y Pants,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suicide,
UT,
The Index,
The Dirtbombs,
Smog,
Wings,
Deepchord,
Average White Band,
Pulsallama,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rapeman,
Country Teasers,
Alice Coltrane,
Steve Hackett,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Offenders,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
The J.B.'s,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scan 7,
Crispy Ambulance,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Byrd,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Index,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Görl,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anakelly,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
E-Dancer,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cymande,
X-101,
Mission of Burma,
Kenny Larkin,
Ohio Players,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
Barry Ungar,
The Cure,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Blancmange,
Leonard Cohen,
Minutemen,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.