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 United Kingdom and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The United States of America to the grime 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bush Tetras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Franke,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swell Maps,
Ossler,
Tears for Fears,
La Düsseldorf,
the Germs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare,
Shoche,
Nirvana,
World's Most,
Steve Hackett,
Malaria!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Whodini,
Desert Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Juan Atkins,
Unwound,
The Index,
The Last Poets,
Sällskapet,
AZ,
Sixth Finger,
Max Romeo,
Sarah Menescal,
U.S. Maple,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barbara Tucker,
Inner City,
Sound Behaviour,
Massinfluence,
Bang On A Can,
Amon Düül II,
Niagra,
Thompson Twins,
The Skatalites,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harmonia,
cv313,
Make Up,
PIL,
Arcadia,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Prunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Icehouse,
Essential Logic,
Japan,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Enemy,
Brick,
Reuben Wilson,
Lucky Dragons,
Parry Music,
Black Bananas,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.