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 San Marino and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 MC5 to the grunge 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thee Headcoats,
New York Dolls,
Pantaleimon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Von Mondo,
Eve St. Jones,
The Human League,
Anthony Braxton,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nils Olav,
Urselle,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yellowson,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Cell,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Funky Four + One,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crash Course in Science,
Au Pairs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slave,
Franke,
David McCallum,
Hashim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
ABC,
Outsiders,
Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Tomorrow,
The Litter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra,
Faust,
Procol Harum,
Henry Cow,
The Stooges,
Glenn Branca,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Starr,
The Saints,
Junior Murvin,
Man Parrish,
Fear,
Subhumans,
Blossom Toes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scan 7,
Patti Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Moon,
Lindisfarne,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.