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 Bhutan and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Nick Fraelich,
Organ,
Swell Maps,
The Human League,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ronnie Foster,
Little Man,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Connie Case,
Crooked Eye,
Rosa Yemen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pole,
Arthur Verocai,
Sex Pistols,
Pere Ubu,
Rekid,
Dawn Penn,
Model 500,
Popol Vuh,
Lyres,
Wasted Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funkadelic,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fuzztones,
Morten Harket,
Stiv Bators,
Glenn Branca,
Susan Cadogan,
Swans,
Ultravox,
Jeff Mills,
ABC,
The Stooges,
Soul Sonic Force,
Oblivians,
Funky Four + One,
DNA,
Iggy Pop,
Warsaw,
John Lydon,
Los Fastidios,
Delta 5,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Television,
John Coltrane,
John Holt,
This Heat,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Cale,
DJ Sneak,
Minutemen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Parry Music,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.