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 Panama and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Terrestrial Tones to the rap 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Ken Boothe,
Nils Olav,
Scott Walker,
Popol Vuh,
Juan Atkins,
Groovy Waters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monochrome Set,
PIL,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deadbeat,
Pylon,
Robert Hood,
The Young Rascals,
The J.B.'s,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
Jerry's Kids,
Max Romeo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra,
Amazonics,
Japan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
Excepter,
Intrusion,
The Monks,
Hasil Adkins,
Organ,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rod Modell,
the Swans,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bluetip,
Chris Corsano,
Country Teasers,
Nirvana,
Deepchord,
Hoover,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Babytalk,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Music Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gun Club,
Peter and Kerry,
Lakeside,
Jacob Miller,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.