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 Zimbabwe and from New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 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 Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Loose Ends,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ohio Players,
F. McDonald,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ice-T,
Aswad,
Zero Boys,
PIL,
Lou Christie,
D'Angelo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Pretty Things,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
K-Klass,
Basic Channel,
Mad Mike,
Cameo,
Blancmange,
Pussy Galore,
Intrusion,
Eric Dolphy,
Alphaville,
The Young Rascals,
John Foxx,
Sarah Menescal,
Wire,
Cheater Slicks,
Country Teasers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Guru Guru,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry's Kids,
Panda Bear,
Sex Pistols,
Zapp,
The Selecter,
Main Source,
Drexciya,
Rapeman,
Agitation Free,
Royal Trux,
Trumans Water,
The Monochrome Set,
Spoonie Gee,
Silicon Teens,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare,
The Evens,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Last Poets,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Remains,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.