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 Ghana and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 David Bowie 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the jazz 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Slave,
D'Angelo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Tremeloes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Das Ding,
Blossom Toes,
Black Pus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Japan,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Birthday Party,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yellowson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roger Hodgson,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia,
Swell Maps,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quantec,
Jandek,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
John Cale,
Surgeon,
Urselle,
Rakim,
Ralphi Rosario,
PIL,
Saccharine Trust,
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
Second Layer,
Suicide,
Al Stewart,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Moss Icon,
The Mummies,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry's Kids,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donny Hathaway,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
Skarface,
Robert Hood,
The Gun Club,
Unrelated Segments,
Dual Sessions,
Blancmange,
Tubeway Army,
Television Personalities,
JFA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.