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 Tuvalu and from Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Byron Stingily to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yellowson,
48th St. Collective,
Lee Hazlewood,
Darondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smoke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dawn Penn,
Malaria!,
Sun Ra,
Scrapy,
Lyres,
Curtis Mayfield,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Skatalites,
Stockholm Monsters,
Connie Case,
The Flesh Eaters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Monolake,
The Index,
The Real Kids,
The Velvet Underground,
David Bowie,
Ohio Players,
Lungfish,
The Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Liliput,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barbara Tucker,
Chris & Cosey,
Niagra,
Ossler,
Outsiders,
John Holt,
The Count Five,
Don Cherry,
Marine Girls,
Black Sheep,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DNA,
Monks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Porter Ricks,
Moebius,
Q65,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Masters at Work,
Wasted Youth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Young Rascals,
Swell Maps,
The Shadows of Knight,
World's Most,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.