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 Estonia and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scott Walker to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis 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 '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 Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Agent Orange,
Max Romeo,
Tom Boy,
Yaz,
Eli Mardock,
Clear Light,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Quantec,
The Doors,
Moby Grape,
The Buckinghams,
The Blues Magoos,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joensuu 1685,
Johnny Clarke,
Ossler,
Yazoo,
Scratch Acid,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
KRS-One,
Ralphi Rosario,
PIL,
Crispy Ambulance,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
FM Einheit,
Little Man,
Lower 48,
Lindisfarne,
Interpol,
the Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Neil Young,
The American Breed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Donald Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Black Dice,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The J.B.'s,
Thee Headcoats,
Brand Nubian,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cramps,
The Count Five,
Blossom Toes,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Lyres,
Tropical Tobacco,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mummies,
Roxy Music,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.