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 Zambia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fear to the rap 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Ultra Naté,
Maleditus Sound,
Buzzcocks,
John Lydon,
Main Source,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doors,
Cal Tjader,
The Blues Magoos,
Sixth Finger,
Cameo,
Y Pants,
Ossler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Slave,
The New Christs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cybotron,
The Names,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Shoche,
Minutemen,
Zapp,
Sonic Youth,
OOIOO,
Ludus,
The Fire Engines,
Dave Gahan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Sheep,
EPMD,
Gang Starr,
Tomorrow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Technova,
Warsaw,
Davy DMX,
The Tremeloes,
Dark Day,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agent Orange,
The Kinks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alphaville,
Moby Grape,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Litter,
Ice-T,
Minnie Riperton,
Skaos,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chrome,
The Divine Comedy,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.