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 Mauritius and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Josef K to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Searchers,
Fad Gadget,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agitation Free,
X-101,
Cecil Taylor,
Johnny Clarke,
Sound Behaviour,
Stetsasonic,
Unrelated Segments,
Janne Schatter,
Albert Ayler,
Outsiders,
Cameo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fluxion,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Porter Ricks,
David Axelrod,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Lynne,
The Music Machine,
New Order,
Reuben Wilson,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Stooges,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Misunderstood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Vainqueur,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Wyatt,
Television,
Judy Mowatt,
The Smiths,
The Litter,
Average White Band,
Bill Near,
cv313,
New York Dolls,
Piero Umiliani,
Eli Mardock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wings,
T. Rex,
Erasure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Red Krayola,
Ohio Players,
The Slits,
H. Thieme,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Sonics,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.