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 Madagascar 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Byron Stingily to the electroclash 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Donny Hathaway,
Television,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minnie Riperton,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Underground Resistance,
Pylon,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Sherman,
Morten Harket,
Duran Duran,
Skarface,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Saccharine Trust,
Toni Rubio,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quantec,
Juan Atkins,
Hardrive,
Zapp,
Man Parrish,
cv313,
Cymande,
Tim Buckley,
Deadbeat,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cramps,
Masters at Work,
Henry Cow,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Halsall,
Simply Red,
Popol Vuh,
Drexciya,
Shuggie Otis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q65,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aaron Thompson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxy Music,
Mo-Dettes,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eve St. Jones,
Section 25,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.