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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fire Engines to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Sam Rivers,
Donny Hathaway,
Y Pants,
Kerrie Biddell,
Surgeon,
Alphaville,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ten City,
The Toasters,
Pulsallama,
Alison Limerick,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Smog,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Niagra,
Von Mondo,
The Buckinghams,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
PIL,
Infiniti,
Sällskapet,
Flash Fearless,
Sarah Menescal,
Vainqueur,
Grauzone,
The Birthday Party,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kayak,
Aural Exciters,
Man Parrish,
Rekid,
Robert Hood,
John Coltrane,
Pierre Henry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pagans,
Joe Smooth,
Tres Demented,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Saints,
La Düsseldorf,
Terrestrial Tones,
T. Rex,
Basic Channel,
Sixth Finger,
Piero Umiliani,
Quando Quango,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
8 Eyed Spy,
Todd Terry,
Mad Mike,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.