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 Samoa and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Danielle Patucci to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Barbara Tucker,
Cameo,
Swell Maps,
David Bowie,
Patti Smith,
Sun City Girls,
Nirvana,
The Electric Prunes,
Fela Kuti,
The American Breed,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sight & Sound,
Kayak,
Pierre Henry,
Whodini,
T. Rex,
Cal Tjader,
Prince Buster,
10cc,
Gerry Rafferty,
Icehouse,
Ludus,
Japan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonic Youth,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Lungfish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
LL Cool J,
Arcadia,
Drexciya,
Surgeon,
Make Up,
Toni Rubio,
Idris Muhammad,
Tim Buckley,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Thompson Twins,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Graham Central Station,
The Motions,
Animal Collective,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minnie Riperton,
Cluster,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soul Sonic Force,
June of 44,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tom Boy,
Gang Starr,
Lalann,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Television Personalities,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.