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 Tonga and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar 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 snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Alison Limerick,
Grey Daturas,
Yazoo,
Pussy Galore,
Barrington Levy,
Simply Red,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grauzone,
Tubeway Army,
Quadrant,
Gerry Rafferty,
Popol Vuh,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
Swell Maps,
New York Dolls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Parrish,
Model 500,
Essential Logic,
Drexciya,
Agent Orange,
Dark Day,
Hoover,
Pharoah Sanders,
Vainqueur,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeff Mills,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
The Misunderstood,
James White and The Blacks,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Half Japanese,
Can,
The Standells,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rapeman,
Blossom Toes,
Reagan Youth,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The New Christs,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Sonics,
Adolescents,
The Fortunes,
the Normal,
Jawbox,
A Certain Ratio,
Main Source,
Janne Schatter,
The Five Americans,
Dennis Brown,
Sex Pistols,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.