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 Djibouti and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Fortunes to the dance 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Pole,
Godley & Creme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Motorama,
Urselle,
Jerry Gold Smith,
EPMD,
Liliput,
Deadbeat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed,
Ohio Players,
Q and Not U,
Monolake,
Sandy B,
Don Cherry,
Todd Rundgren,
Pussy Galore,
Slick Rick,
Minutemen,
Hashim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dawn Penn,
Flipper,
Sound Behaviour,
Talk Talk,
Dead Boys,
Scratch Acid,
L. Decosne,
The Tremeloes,
Janne Schatter,
Funky Four + One,
Make Up,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang of Four,
Roxette,
Country Teasers,
Scrapy,
Interpol,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Royal Trux,
Terry Callier,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultravox,
The Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Buckinghams,
June of 44,
Graham Central Station,
Mark Hollis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skaos,
Lower 48,
Duran Duran,
Prince Buster,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.