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 Honduras and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Y Pants to the grunge 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Patti Smith,
June of 44,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Toni Rubio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
Idris Muhammad,
Throbbing Gristle,
Monolake,
Lindisfarne,
Thee Headcoats,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mantronix,
The Electric Prunes,
Jacob Miller,
The Leaves,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Parry Music,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
New Order,
DJ Sneak,
Danielle Patucci,
The Detroit Cobras,
David McCallum,
X-101,
Barbara Tucker,
Kayak,
The Remains,
Joy Division,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rapeman,
Deakin,
Albert Ayler,
Aaron Thompson,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vainqueur,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cramps,
Mo-Dettes,
Minnie Riperton,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bob Dylan,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Susan Cadogan,
Flash Fearless,
Pierre Henry,
The Litter,
John Holt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yellowson,
Saccharine Trust,
The Toasters,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Erykah Badu,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.