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 Czech Republic and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 The Misunderstood to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Sparks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scott Walker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June Days,
Kool Moe Dee,
Excepter,
The American Breed,
Joey Negro,
ABC,
Barrington Levy,
Drive Like Jehu,
World's Most,
a-ha,
Letta Mbulu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ice-T,
Au Pairs,
Ludus,
Robert Görl,
The Pop Group,
The Real Kids,
Interpol,
Quantec,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stetsasonic,
The Sonics,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy Collins,
Aswad,
The Cramps,
Roxette,
Fat Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Angry Samoans,
The Moleskins,
The Blues Magoos,
Fatback Band,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brick,
Neu!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tres Demented,
The J.B.'s,
New York Dolls,
H. Thieme,
Sonic Youth,
Tim Buckley,
K-Klass,
Johnny Clarke,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Barracudas,
Urselle,
Talk Talk,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.