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 Haiti and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Livin' Joy,
The Monks,
Nils Olav,
E-Dancer,
Index,
Khruangbin,
DJ Style,
Rites of Spring,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tim Buckley,
Warsaw,
Clear Light,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott Heron,
Danielle Patucci,
Marcia Griffiths,
a-ha,
The Residents,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Starr,
Urselle,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bluetip,
Dave Gahan,
The Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Parry Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Teasers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sparks,
The Smoke,
Wings,
Fat Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lyres,
Anthony Braxton,
The Golliwogs,
Wolf Eyes,
Y Pants,
Robert Hood,
Henry Cow,
Davy DMX,
B.T. Express,
The Pop Group,
the Germs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aloha Tigers,
Kaleidoscope,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lakeside,
Second Layer,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.