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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the sitar 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Magma,
Camberwell Now,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
The Trojans,
Lindisfarne,
The Victims,
Deakin,
CMW,
Iggy Pop,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Malaria!,
Q and Not U,
U.S. Maple,
Hasil Adkins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bob Dylan,
Blossom Toes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Visage,
The Litter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fela Kuti,
Soulsonic Force,
John Foxx,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers,
The Slackers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scrapy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Infiniti,
Peter and Kerry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Spandau Ballet,
Negative Approach,
the Normal,
The Knickerbockers,
Gabor Szabo,
Rakim,
Scott Walker,
Scan 7,
Quando Quango,
The Motions,
The Move,
The Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
The Sound,
Groovy Waters,
The Velvet Underground,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Morten Harket,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
ABC,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drexciya,
Pantaleimon,
Smog,
The Blackbyrds,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.