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 Ecuador and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ 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 Echospace to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
John Holt,
Pylon,
The Trojans,
Niagra,
Pulsallama,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rapeman,
Nils Olav,
The Wake,
Cluster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
The Fugs,
Slave,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brothers Johnson,
Michelle Simonal,
Prince Buster,
Moby Grape,
Tres Demented,
The Fuzztones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Smog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jawbox,
Howard Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Magazine,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Lyres,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-Ray Spex,
Camouflage,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anthony Braxton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
This Heat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Icehouse,
Parry Music,
Aswad,
Tubeway Army,
Adolescents,
Gichy Dan,
James White and The Blacks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang of Four,
Animal Collective,
Frankie Knuckles,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marvin Gaye,
Mad Mike,
Fela Kuti,
Bauhaus,
Carl Craig,
JFA,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.