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 Moldova and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 MC5 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
The Neon Judgement,
Vainqueur,
The Barracudas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Slits,
Flipper,
Unwound,
Mo-Dettes,
Anakelly,
Roxette,
Yaz,
Arthur Verocai,
Henry Cow,
Tears for Fears,
Michelle Simonal,
Cymande,
Thee Headcoats,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fall,
Subhumans,
Barclay James Harvest,
48th St. Collective,
Liliput,
Wally Richardson,
Donald Byrd,
Alton Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Simply Red,
Boredoms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Hood,
Lakeside,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joey Negro,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Machine,
Byron Stingily,
David Bowie,
Metal Thangz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
Dave Gahan,
Buzzcocks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Five Americans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Carl Craig,
Zero Boys,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camouflage,
Agent Orange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Letta Mbulu,
KRS-One,
The New Christs,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.