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 Mali and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Bauhaus to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Leonard Cohen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nas,
Sam Rivers,
Massinfluence,
Pierre Henry,
Saccharine Trust,
B.T. Express,
Freddie Wadling,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Supertramp,
The Fuzztones,
Eric Copeland,
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
E-Dancer,
The Count Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Buzzcocks,
The Litter,
Oblivians,
Roxette,
Vainqueur,
JFA,
the Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Grey Daturas,
Laurel Aitken,
Adolescents,
Angry Samoans,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Lydon,
The Tremeloes,
Magma,
Mars,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Faraquet,
Circle Jerks,
Television Personalities,
Connie Case,
Soulsonic Force,
Moby Grape,
Joe Finger,
Japan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy Collins,
Monolake,
Swans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Remains,
Model 500,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Sixth Finger,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.