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 Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Modern Lovers to the jazz 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Crime,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Happenings,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Smiths,
Monolake,
The Martian,
FM Einheit,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
LL Cool J,
Cheater Slicks,
Derrick May,
Oneida,
Amon Düül II,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Outsiders,
The Fuzztones,
Max Romeo,
D'Angelo,
Flipper,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Tremeloes,
Vladislav Delay,
Peter and Kerry,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Invisible,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alison Limerick,
The Smoke,
Erykah Badu,
Subhumans,
Angry Samoans,
Ultravox,
Cluster,
Letta Mbulu,
Skaos,
Sam Rivers,
The Wake,
Youth Brigade,
X-Ray Spex,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Golliwogs,
Deadbeat,
These Immortal Souls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roger Hodgson,
the Bar-Kays,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Can,
Tubeway Army,
Panda Bear,
Talk Talk,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Selecter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.