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 Mongolia and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Heaven 17 to the techno 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
The Fugs,
Harry Pussy,
Motorama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Warren Ellis,
Sandy B,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ice-T,
John Foxx,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deepchord,
The Walker Brothers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Underground Resistance,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Starr,
Country Teasers,
The Cure,
The Modern Lovers,
The Five Americans,
Howard Jones,
The Doors,
Bill Wells,
Moebius,
Symarip,
Prince Buster,
The Human League,
Scott Walker,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pop Group,
the Bar-Kays,
Slave,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
The Offenders,
Pierre Henry,
Sister Nancy,
Mission of Burma,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
New York Dolls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slick Rick,
Q and Not U,
Sällskapet,
Shoche,
ABC,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blake Baxter,
Erykah Badu,
X-101,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Bananas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lakeside,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.