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 Uruguay and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Outsiders to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Public Enemy,
Junior Murvin,
Althea and Donna,
Das Ding,
Duran Duran,
The Last Poets,
Deepchord,
Pantytec,
Saccharine Trust,
Make Up,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Moby Grape,
The Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Buzzcocks,
Grauzone,
Dark Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nico,
Roxette,
The Wake,
Donny Hathaway,
Kenny Larkin,
Cheater Slicks,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young,
Eden Ahbez,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
The Birthday Party,
Blossom Toes,
Organ,
Judy Mowatt,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Oneida,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slave,
Toni Rubio,
Animal Collective,
The Remains,
Black Bananas,
Lyres,
the Human League,
The Young Rascals,
Average White Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Yellowson,
Roger Hodgson,
Dawn Penn,
Dennis Brown,
The Standells,
the Association,
Charles Mingus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brick,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.