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 Bolivia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 Eden Ahbez to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
the Slits,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Görl,
Model 500,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pere Ubu,
Qualms,
Duran Duran,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Motorama,
Vainqueur,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
Lebanon Hanover,
Blossom Toes,
Cybotron,
Pharoah Sanders,
Schoolly D,
Tears for Fears,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Das Ding,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Angels of Light,
Basic Channel,
Cecil Taylor,
Marshall Jefferson,
Electric Prunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Tremeloes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Pus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
Ice-T,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kayak,
The Velvet Underground,
Franke,
Barbara Tucker,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Clarke,
the Human League,
Radio Birdman,
Alphaville,
Youth Brigade,
KRS-One,
The Cramps,
Eddi Front,
Desert Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Boredoms,
Ossler,
Adolescents,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eurythmics,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.