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 Cape Verde and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amazonics,
Eden Ahbez,
David Bowie,
Mr. Review,
The Buckinghams,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jawbox,
H. Thieme,
Crash Course in Science,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lightning Bolt,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moleskins,
Pagans,
Juan Atkins,
Junior Murvin,
Alphaville,
Make Up,
Ultra Naté,
The Associates,
The Kinks,
Nas,
Subhumans,
Jacques Brel,
Brick,
Gong,
KRS-One,
Funky Four + One,
ABBA,
Reuben Wilson,
Interpol,
The Dirtbombs,
Drive Like Jehu,
X-102,
Rufus Thomas,
The Remains,
The Victims,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Silicon Teens,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Lydon,
The Skatalites,
D'Angelo,
The Tremeloes,
Magazine,
Motorama,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül II,
The Index,
Technova,
One Last Wish,
Eddi Front,
The Standells,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New York Dolls,
Deakin,
Eric Dolphy,
F. McDonald,
Barbara Tucker,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.