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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb 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 Television Personalities to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Mandrill,
Connie Case,
The Evens,
Yaz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Godley & Creme,
The Grass Roots,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Youth Brigade,
Von Mondo,
World's Most,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Popol Vuh,
Ossler,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Wake,
48th St. Collective,
LL Cool J,
Lungfish,
Underground Resistance,
Neu!,
The J.B.'s,
Pussy Galore,
Fat Boys,
Babytalk,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy Collins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
Loose Ends,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Juan Atkins,
Unrelated Segments,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ponytail,
Slick Rick,
Fela Kuti,
Stiv Bators,
Lightning Bolt,
Rites of Spring,
Panda Bear,
Altered Images,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
Pole,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moebius,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aloha Tigers,
Half Japanese,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Japan,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.