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 Nauru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Searchers,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Prunes,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
The Toasters,
Monolake,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
In Retrospect,
Charles Mingus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C,
The Velvet Underground,
Subhumans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ohio Players,
Monks,
Icehouse,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
June Days,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pagans,
Model 500,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Talk Talk,
T.S.O.L.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cecil Taylor,
Unwound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crash Course in Science,
Technova,
Gichy Dan,
Babytalk,
Crime,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Real Kids,
Carl Craig,
Shuggie Otis,
Supertramp,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Fraelich,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kas Product,
Clear Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
Connie Case,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nik Kershaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.