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 Bahamas and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 Eli Mardock to the grime 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cheater Slicks,
the Association,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Buzzcocks,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
Neu!,
Hasil Adkins,
Piero Umiliani,
Moebius,
Pierre Henry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Unwound,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Maleditus Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Oblivians,
John Holt,
The Skatalites,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alton Ellis,
the Germs,
X-102,
Interpol,
Fatback Band,
Mandrill,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ice-T,
Silicon Teens,
Arthur Verocai,
Easy Going,
Schoolly D,
The Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Tres Demented,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Animal Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cal Tjader,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
Simply Red,
Ossler,
Camouflage,
Malaria!,
Bush Tetras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angry Samoans,
Brand Nubian,
Kevin Saunderson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joe Finger,
LL Cool J,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.