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 Kitts & Nevis and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sun City Girls to the punk 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Howard Jones,
KRS-One,
Monks,
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Jandek,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mantronix,
Bluetip,
Mark Hollis,
Carl Craig,
Tom Boy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Searchers,
a-ha,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Buzzcocks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stereo Dub,
Boz Scaggs,
Tubeway Army,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jerry's Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Selecter,
The Cure,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thee Headcoats,
The Barracudas,
Quadrant,
Black Moon,
Minor Threat,
Marvin Gaye,
Jacques Brel,
Lakeside,
Spandau Ballet,
Tommy Roe,
Niagra,
Popol Vuh,
Scratch Acid,
Rosa Yemen,
Michelle Simonal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Eli Mardock,
Urselle,
Drexciya,
The Offenders,
Cal Tjader,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Todd Terry,
Tears for Fears,
Goldenarms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mr. Review,
Schoolly D,
Television,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.