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 St Lucia and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Last Poets to the grunge 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Hardrive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Grass Roots,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joey Negro,
Organ,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Banda Bassotti,
Donald Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Holt,
Schoolly D,
Nation of Ulysses,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stiv Bators,
Susan Cadogan,
The Searchers,
Ronnie Foster,
The Victims,
The Names,
Sun City Girls,
Swans,
48th St. Collective,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
Suicide,
Camouflage,
Colin Newman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Qualms,
Buzzcocks,
Cecil Taylor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
Sonic Youth,
Quadrant,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chris & Cosey,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Near,
The Red Krayola,
Al Stewart,
Chris Corsano,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fall,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fat Boys,
Hashim,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Liliput,
Smog,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.