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 Niger and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Piero Umiliani to the rock 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Trojans,
The Black Dice,
Anakelly,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harmonia,
Altered Images,
Aural Exciters,
Amon Düül,
Agent Orange,
Suicide,
The Birthday Party,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Icehouse,
Byron Stingily,
The Neon Judgement,
Whodini,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
Bill Wells,
CMW,
Franke,
DJ Style,
Pierre Henry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bauhaus,
Ituana,
Stetsasonic,
Toni Rubio,
B.T. Express,
The Star Department,
Spandau Ballet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sandy B,
Lalann,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ornette Coleman,
Monks,
Grauzone,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brass Construction,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
Gabor Szabo,
Duran Duran,
The Vogues,
the Slits,
Lakeside,
Robert Wyatt,
The Divine Comedy,
Fat Boys,
Howard Jones,
Schoolly D,
Isaac Hayes,
Cal Tjader,
Absolute Body Control,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.