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 Oman and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum 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 Schoolly D to the rock 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans 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?
Ponytail,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
David McCallum,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Arthur Verocai,
Camouflage,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jawbox,
Suburban Knight,
Ten City,
Talk Talk,
Neu!,
Danielle Patucci,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dawn Penn,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mary Jane Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Television Personalities,
Godley & Creme,
Tommy Roe,
Ronnie Foster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sam Rivers,
F. McDonald,
Warren Ellis,
Grauzone,
John Holt,
Section 25,
Dead Boys,
Bluetip,
The Smiths,
The Martian,
The Leaves,
Robert Hood,
The Five Americans,
Bob Dylan,
Janne Schatter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultravox,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DNA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Technova,
Derrick May,
Bauhaus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Copeland,
The Doors,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gun Club,
The Cramps,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.