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 Palau and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Doors 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Suburban Knight,
Tres Demented,
Moby Grape,
Audionom,
Urselle,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pole,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
Smog,
Sarah Menescal,
Flash Fearless,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Buckinghams,
Swell Maps,
Colin Newman,
Rekid,
The J.B.'s,
Masters at Work,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thompson Twins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
cv313,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Organ,
Robert Wyatt,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Suicide,
Ossler,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
EPMD,
These Immortal Souls,
Scrapy,
Henry Cow,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eddi Front,
The Blues Magoos,
Prince Buster,
The Walker Brothers,
In Retrospect,
Eli Mardock,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yazoo,
The Cure,
Bad Manners,
T.S.O.L.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Standells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Los Fastidios,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.