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 Benin and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Girls At Our Best! to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Gong,
Mandrill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moleskins,
Youth Brigade,
Pulsallama,
The Motions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Happenings,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The American Breed,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Angry Samoans,
Slave,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
Mission of Burma,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minnie Riperton,
UT,
Funky Four + One,
Drexciya,
Rod Modell,
Das Ding,
Tim Buckley,
Qualms,
Surgeon,
Oneida,
Alison Limerick,
Erykah Badu,
The Names,
PIL,
Warsaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donald Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Supertramp,
Byron Stingily,
Fear,
Monolake,
Tears for Fears,
John Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Sarah Menescal,
Wolf Eyes,
Brand Nubian,
Boredoms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
Pagans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yellowson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Loose Ends,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.