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 Angola and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Underground Resistance,
Lalann,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Real Kids,
The Motions,
The Cramps,
Fat Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül,
Duran Duran,
Mars,
DNA,
The American Breed,
Sonic Youth,
Skriet,
Arab on Radar,
Pantytec,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Make Up,
Althea and Donna,
Bob Dylan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Al Stewart,
Delon & Dalcan,
Susan Cadogan,
Ten City,
Cybotron,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minny Pops,
The Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
The Fire Engines,
AZ,
Roger Hodgson,
Freddie Wadling,
Unwound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Unrelated Segments,
Arcadia,
Wolf Eyes,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Wyatt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joyce Sims,
The Index,
The Happenings,
Rotary Connection,
Max Romeo,
Blossom Toes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aswad,
Panda Bear,
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.