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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Lebanon Hanover to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Subhumans,
Surgeon,
Buzzcocks,
Black Bananas,
The Evens,
Livin' Joy,
The Victims,
Anakelly,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
kango's stein massive,
Panda Bear,
Yellowson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed,
Roxette,
Colin Newman,
Gang Starr,
Stiv Bators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Slits,
The Last Poets,
T.S.O.L.,
Yazoo,
Ice-T,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül II,
Suicide,
Grauzone,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Happenings,
Q65,
Motorama,
The Knickerbockers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Adolescents,
Chrome,
Fatback Band,
Scion,
Cameo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
cv313,
Fad Gadget,
Depeche Mode,
The Move,
Liliput,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lalann,
Excepter,
Eve St. Jones,
Smog,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.