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 Mexico and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the dance 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave 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?
Kenny Larkin,
Malaria!,
Blake Baxter,
Agent Orange,
Thompson Twins,
Bad Manners,
The Buckinghams,
The Index,
MDC,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
Sight & Sound,
Pagans,
Swans,
Mission of Burma,
The Leaves,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronnie Foster,
Isaac Hayes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Godley & Creme,
Eric Dolphy,
The Saints,
Babytalk,
Inner City,
UT,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Human League,
The Velvet Underground,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pantytec,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
The Durutti Column,
Livin' Joy,
The Offenders,
Tom Boy,
Fat Boys,
AZ,
Alphaville,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Whodini,
Absolute Body Control,
Sister Nancy,
Lyres,
John Coltrane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Davy DMX,
Average White Band,
Deepchord,
The Detroit Cobras,
Organ,
Minor Threat,
the Association,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Wyatt,
Eddi Front,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.