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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Evens to the rap 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nick Fraelich,
Metal Thangz,
The Golliwogs,
Unwound,
Organ,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slits,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gastr Del Sol,
Khruangbin,
Don Cherry,
Interpol,
Lee Hazlewood,
Morten Harket,
Sarah Menescal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cheater Slicks,
Sugar Minott,
Bauhaus,
The Five Americans,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drexciya,
Tim Buckley,
The Real Kids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kerri Chandler,
The Evens,
a-ha,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Zeros,
Easy Going,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Janne Schatter,
Technova,
48th St. Collective,
Mo-Dettes,
Judy Mowatt,
Pantaleimon,
Leonard Cohen,
The Saints,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Style,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Mojo Men,
The Alarm Clocks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang On A Can,
Bad Manners,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
La Düsseldorf,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Suicide,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Smog,
K-Klass,
Sonny Sharrock,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.