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 Fiji and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Lou Reed 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 Severed Heads to the rap 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
Slave,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
U.S. Maple,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Mills,
Dark Day,
Minnie Riperton,
The Stooges,
Camberwell Now,
The Knickerbockers,
the Swans,
Saccharine Trust,
Delon & Dalcan,
Supertramp,
Sex Pistols,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
Howard Jones,
The Gun Club,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Wyatt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Byron Stingily,
the Sonics,
Bronski Beat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scott Walker,
Moebius,
Jawbox,
X-102,
Lou Reed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gabor Szabo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Groovy Waters,
Porter Ricks,
Bush Tetras,
Masters at Work,
Jerry's Kids,
Monks,
The Zeros,
K-Klass,
The Tremeloes,
Nick Fraelich,
Barbara Tucker,
Main Source,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
FM Einheit,
Altered Images,
Model 500,
LL Cool J,
Scrapy,
Bobby Sherman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Clear Light,
John Holt,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.