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 Cameroon and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Lou Reed 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 Nirvana to the rock 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Electric Prunes,
Pole,
The Cure,
Stiv Bators,
Suicide,
Soul II Soul,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sugar Minott,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Excepter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Magazine,
Ronan,
10cc,
Fat Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Livin' Joy,
The Alarm Clocks,
New York Dolls,
The Motions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lungfish,
Mark Hollis,
Cecil Taylor,
Popol Vuh,
the Germs,
Matthew Bourne,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed,
Quando Quango,
The Last Poets,
DNA,
Agent Orange,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-102,
The Music Machine,
Aural Exciters,
Heaven 17,
The Fall,
The Saints,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Raincoats,
David Bowie,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minor Threat,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
Unrelated Segments,
Skaos,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.