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 South Africa and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dead Boys,
Maurizio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Christie,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Bananas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
ABC,
Lebanon Hanover,
Audionom,
The New Christs,
Andrew Hill,
Section 25,
Johnny Osbourne,
Panda Bear,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Womack,
EPMD,
Peter and Kerry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chris & Cosey,
The Wake,
Absolute Body Control,
Ken Boothe,
Can,
Crash Course in Science,
Howard Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mojo Men,
The Mummies,
Chrome,
Gang Green,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick Morgan,
Magma,
Index,
Vainqueur,
Q and Not U,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cure,
New Order,
Tim Buckley,
The Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Country Teasers,
Q65,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yaz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Junior Murvin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.