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 Iceland and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang Starr to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Fluxion,
Peter and Kerry,
Swell Maps,
Audionom,
Marshall Jefferson,
Althea and Donna,
the Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cramps,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
New York Dolls,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mummies,
T. Rex,
Idris Muhammad,
Simply Red,
Thee Headcoats,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Piero Umiliani,
DJ Sneak,
Fugazi,
Skaos,
Stiv Bators,
The Grass Roots,
the Human League,
The Sonics,
Carl Craig,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arcadia,
Grey Daturas,
David Bowie,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Electric Prunes,
Ornette Coleman,
Grauzone,
Flipper,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Severed Heads,
Television,
Sun Ra,
Cal Tjader,
Wally Richardson,
Niagra,
Das Ding,
Soul II Soul,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Loose Ends,
The Last Poets,
Infiniti,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.