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 Mauritius and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sam Rivers to the techno 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kurtis Blow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Juan Atkins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camouflage,
One Last Wish,
Stereo Dub,
Loose Ends,
Cecil Taylor,
Fad Gadget,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
Cymande,
Tres Demented,
DJ Sneak,
Masters at Work,
Aaron Thompson,
Frankie Knuckles,
David Axelrod,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
DNA,
Cameo,
L. Decosne,
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
Unwound,
The Monks,
Peter & Gordon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moebius,
Spoonie Gee,
The Buckinghams,
These Immortal Souls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gun Club,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Throbbing Gristle,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABBA,
Jeff Lynne,
Ken Boothe,
The Vogues,
The Toasters,
The Human League,
Lou Reed,
The Smoke,
Thompson Twins,
Khruangbin,
Ronan,
Skarface,
Amon Düül,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.