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 Argentina and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Funky Four + One,
Moebius,
Todd Terry,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
The Happenings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The United States of America,
Television Personalities,
Organ,
Toni Rubio,
Boredoms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Janne Schatter,
The Durutti Column,
The Evens,
The Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
Rufus Thomas,
Junior Murvin,
Kenny Larkin,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moleskins,
Althea and Donna,
Echospace,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Max Romeo,
Dark Day,
Juan Atkins,
Subhumans,
Skaos,
Suicide,
Guru Guru,
Moss Icon,
10cc,
Man Parrish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Severed Heads,
The Wake,
Ronan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marine Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Lakeside,
Scratch Acid,
Angry Samoans,
Stiv Bators,
Anthony Braxton,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faraquet,
D'Angelo,
Oneida,
Bill Near,
The Gap Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Searchers,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.