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 Palau and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 kango's stein massive to the electroclash 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
The New Christs,
Groovy Waters,
Todd Terry,
Hardrive,
Roger Hodgson,
Janne Schatter,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Youth Brigade,
The Moody Blues,
Bizarre Inc.,
Susan Cadogan,
The Selecter,
The Tremeloes,
Rekid,
Amon Düül II,
The Fire Engines,
The Dave Clark Five,
Technova,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Divine Comedy,
Barrington Levy,
the Germs,
Black Bananas,
Cymande,
The Moleskins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Desert Stars,
the Normal,
The Slackers,
CMW,
The Motions,
Q and Not U,
The Vogues,
Banda Bassotti,
Animal Collective,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tim Buckley,
Rod Modell,
Chrome,
Faust,
David Axelrod,
Nas,
Slave,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mission of Burma,
The Searchers,
Lower 48,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ohio Players,
The Red Krayola,
Magma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed,
The Techniques,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.