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 Botswana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wings to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Foxx,
Steve Hackett,
Brick,
H. Thieme,
Mad Mike,
Icehouse,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Boogie Down Productions,
Josef K,
Scott Walker,
Kas Product,
Moebius,
Echospace,
Sister Nancy,
Roxy Music,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Erasure,
Dawn Penn,
Boredoms,
Dark Day,
FM Einheit,
Todd Terry,
June of 44,
Man Parrish,
Nas,
Aswad,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fire Engines,
Yaz,
Lou Reed,
Slick Rick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
Thee Headcoats,
T.S.O.L.,
Donald Byrd,
Rapeman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Germs,
The Blues Magoos,
Delta 5,
Robert Hood,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fall,
Guru Guru,
The Dirtbombs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ossler,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Absolute Body Control,
Agitation Free,
Scrapy,
Unrelated Segments,
The Last Poets,
Jeff Mills,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.