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 Bulgaria and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 Drexciya to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
kango's stein massive,
Harmonia,
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Con Funk Shun,
The Wake,
Public Image Ltd.,
Isaac Hayes,
Pierre Henry,
Scion,
T.S.O.L.,
The Standells,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Babytalk,
Soft Cell,
Slave,
Morten Harket,
Josef K,
Los Fastidios,
Jawbox,
Desert Stars,
Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donny Hathaway,
Howard Jones,
Von Mondo,
The Monochrome Set,
Buzzcocks,
The Moody Blues,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mummies,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sparks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
Bad Manners,
The Techniques,
48th St. Collective,
T. Rex,
Eve St. Jones,
ABBA,
the Slits,
Franke,
Scrapy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pulsallama,
CMW,
Ronan,
Half Japanese,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Real Kids,
The Monks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pagans,
Iggy Pop,
Y Pants,
The Evens,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.