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 Monaco and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Franke to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Cal Tjader,
The Buckinghams,
Simply Red,
Stetsasonic,
Mars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Beau Brummels,
Loose Ends,
The Sonics,
X-102,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
Don Cherry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tropical Tobacco,
kango's stein massive,
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
Dead Boys,
Blancmange,
Smog,
The Selecter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
DNA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Technova,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marine Girls,
Negative Approach,
the Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
The Red Krayola,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dave Gahan,
Hasil Adkins,
Little Man,
Magazine,
Eric Dolphy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Wyatt,
Motorama,
Heaven 17,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Görl,
Jacob Miller,
The Shadows of Knight,
Maurizio,
Archie Shepp,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Trojans,
Jeff Mills,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.