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 New Zealand and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Half Japanese 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Moleskins,
Peter & Gordon,
Jacques Brel,
Can,
The Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Spoonie Gee,
Chris & Cosey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sarah Menescal,
Laurel Aitken,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Tremeloes,
Subhumans,
The Evens,
Bad Manners,
Marvin Gaye,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
MC5,
The Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Stetsasonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eden Ahbez,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sugar Minott,
Agent Orange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Donald Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Marc Almond,
Franke,
Country Teasers,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Near,
E-Dancer,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalann,
The Trojans,
The Dirtbombs,
Cheater Slicks,
Brass Construction,
Funkadelic,
the Association,
Fluxion,
Intrusion,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
a-ha,
The Star Department,
Barry Ungar,
Neu!,
Camouflage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Essential Logic,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.