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 Angola and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Big Daddy Kane to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Mary Jane Girls,
David McCallum,
Buzzcocks,
Electric Prunes,
Harry Pussy,
Lalann,
Lucky Dragons,
The Real Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-101,
June of 44,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Clarke,
Bootsy Collins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Desert Stars,
David Bowie,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Techniques,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pylon,
Funkadelic,
Accadde A,
8 Eyed Spy,
Swell Maps,
Grey Daturas,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
The Gun Club,
Suburban Knight,
Terry Callier,
Warren Ellis,
Bang On A Can,
Vainqueur,
EPMD,
Charles Mingus,
Cecil Taylor,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dave Gahan,
Faust,
John Holt,
Infiniti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Kinks,
New Age Steppers,
Magma,
Piero Umiliani,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rekid,
Peter & Gordon,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Martian,
The Gladiators,
Mission of Burma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pagans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slits,
Subhumans,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.