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 Czech Republic and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Judy Mowatt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Lakeside,
The New Christs,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels,
Aloha Tigers,
The Walker Brothers,
The Smoke,
Monolake,
KRS-One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harry Pussy,
The Move,
Alice Coltrane,
Althea and Donna,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Slits,
Schoolly D,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gastr Del Sol,
Interpol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Human League,
Kayak,
Oblivians,
Saccharine Trust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Whodini,
Mr. Review,
Franke,
Derrick May,
The Remains,
Henry Cow,
D'Angelo,
Mantronix,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lyres,
Nico,
Roxy Music,
Lalann,
Cheater Slicks,
UT,
The Litter,
Mo-Dettes,
Scrapy,
Swell Maps,
Josef K,
Janne Schatter,
Banda Bassotti,
Zero Boys,
Das Ding,
Ossler,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Niagra,
John Cale,
Qualms,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Hill,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.