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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the rap 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Monolake,
Heaven 17,
Wings,
Isaac Hayes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yusef Lateef,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sugar Minott,
the Sonics,
Joey Negro,
The Pop Group,
Nik Kershaw,
Sight & Sound,
Neil Young,
Thee Headcoats,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
B.T. Express,
Stiv Bators,
Ronnie Foster,
Camberwell Now,
Stereo Dub,
Lightning Bolt,
Junior Murvin,
Cameo,
Arab on Radar,
Eve St. Jones,
KRS-One,
Popol Vuh,
Arcadia,
Hoover,
Lungfish,
The Dirtbombs,
Nils Olav,
Darondo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minutemen,
Alton Ellis,
Crash Course in Science,
Tim Buckley,
Lalann,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cure,
The Mummies,
the Human League,
Livin' Joy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Buckinghams,
Reuben Wilson,
L. Decosne,
The Searchers,
Janne Schatter,
Don Cherry,
Bluetip,
The Sonics,
Laurel Aitken,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.