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 Croatia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar 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 Jacques Brel to the dance 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Sonic Youth,
Y Pants,
Alison Limerick,
Morten Harket,
Barry Ungar,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Martian,
Michelle Simonal,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
The Angels of Light,
Mission of Burma,
Tres Demented,
UT,
The Dirtbombs,
Masters at Work,
Accadde A,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Wyatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantaleimon,
Hasil Adkins,
The Seeds,
The American Breed,
CMW,
Minutemen,
Grey Daturas,
The Slits,
Babytalk,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Young Marble Giants,
Rufus Thomas,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
Easy Going,
Bobby Womack,
the Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
The New Christs,
The Beau Brummels,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Urselle,
Eric B and Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
B.T. Express,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rites of Spring,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Graham Central Station,
Radiohead,
The Vogues,
Thompson Twins,
The Knickerbockers,
Agent Orange,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.