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 Seychelles and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Little Man to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Monks,
Fad Gadget,
The Buckinghams,
Half Japanese,
PIL,
Audionom,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mantronix,
Scrapy,
Boredoms,
Au Pairs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Letta Mbulu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neu!,
Chris & Cosey,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
Monolake,
the Normal,
Index,
Barry Ungar,
The Standells,
Blossom Toes,
The Litter,
Mars,
a-ha,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lucky Dragons,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Livin' Joy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Patti Smith,
Gang of Four,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bush Tetras,
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Byrd,
Neil Young,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Bananas,
The Cure,
Easy Going,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
the Association,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.