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 Australia and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Smooth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mary Jane Girls,
In Retrospect,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Cale,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rufus Thomas,
10cc,
Ultravox,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Starr,
Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gong,
Y Pants,
Von Mondo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Iggy Pop,
Soul II Soul,
Reagan Youth,
China Crisis,
Ken Boothe,
Infiniti,
Boredoms,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
Niagra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun City Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jandek,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New York Dolls,
Sparks,
Joe Finger,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oblivians,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deakin,
Brick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hot Snakes,
The Victims,
Fatback Band,
Scion,
Scan 7,
Eden Ahbez,
Ponytail,
Robert Hood,
The Doors,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harmonia,
Isaac Hayes,
Procol Harum,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.