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 Solomon Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 The Stooges to the rock 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Smooth,
Swell Maps,
Severed Heads,
The Shadows of Knight,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
David Axelrod,
the Normal,
Heaven 17,
Scrapy,
Accadde A,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rakim,
Qualms,
Agent Orange,
Mark Hollis,
Intrusion,
R.M.O.,
John Holt,
Bobby Sherman,
Popol Vuh,
Cybotron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Christie,
Black Moon,
the Bar-Kays,
Marshall Jefferson,
cv313,
Deadbeat,
Lalann,
Clear Light,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Swans,
Lungfish,
Andrew Hill,
The Associates,
Mr. Review,
Mars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wally Richardson,
Brick,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jacques Brel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June of 44,
Fear,
Marc Almond,
Donald Byrd,
B.T. Express,
The Cure,
The Tremeloes,
The Grass Roots,
Quadrant,
Scion,
JFA,
Swans,
Dave Gahan,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.