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 Kenya and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Intrusion to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Malaria!,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
New Age Steppers,
The Human League,
L. Decosne,
Funkadelic,
Scratch Acid,
The Standells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Second Layer,
Barry Ungar,
Spandau Ballet,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül,
The Raincoats,
Maleditus Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Boredoms,
June of 44,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fluxion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dennis Brown,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Wake,
Zapp,
Fela Kuti,
Sister Nancy,
U.S. Maple,
Parry Music,
Con Funk Shun,
Banda Bassotti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brothers Johnson,
Ronan,
DJ Style,
Young Marble Giants,
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
In Retrospect,
Bill Near,
Drexciya,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Barracudas,
Thee Headcoats,
Nick Fraelich,
David McCallum,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Joe Smooth,
D'Angelo,
Danielle Patucci,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.