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 Congo and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 8 Eyed Spy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Brick,
Ronan,
Unwound,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barry Ungar,
Franke,
Circle Jerks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Icehouse,
The Moody Blues,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Womack,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cameo,
Alton Ellis,
Bad Manners,
Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Skaos,
The Last Poets,
Pantaleimon,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare,
Junior Murvin,
The Selecter,
Can,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
Eve St. Jones,
The Toasters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gladiators,
The Buckinghams,
The Litter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Zero Boys,
Y Pants,
Morten Harket,
Quando Quango,
Inner City,
The Fugs,
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
Freddie Wadling,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Half Japanese,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fall,
The Sonics,
Simply Red,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.