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 Dominican Republic and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Crime to the dance 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
10cc,
Loose Ends,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Donny Hathaway,
Soft Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Reagan Youth,
Junior Murvin,
The Doors,
Jesper Dahlback,
Animal Collective,
H. Thieme,
The Fortunes,
Graham Central Station,
R.M.O.,
Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
Yazoo,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Human League,
PIL,
Lalo Schifrin,
Warren Ellis,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Wire,
JFA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bad Manners,
The Last Poets,
Porter Ricks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacques Brel,
Audionom,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Red Krayola,
Carl Craig,
The Techniques,
Gang Green,
Eurythmics,
AZ,
The Stooges,
Andrew Hill,
The Cure,
Radio Birdman,
Faraquet,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cybotron,
Youth Brigade,
Babytalk,
Yusef Lateef,
Silicon Teens,
The Fuzztones,
Johnny Clarke,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.