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 Lebanon and from Tehran.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro 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 Man Eating Sloth 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxette,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Lalann,
Jawbox,
Amazonics,
Pylon,
Rotary Connection,
Brick,
Fat Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kenny Larkin,
Nick Fraelich,
Royal Trux,
Althea and Donna,
The Saints,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moleskins,
the Association,
PIL,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crime,
Gang Green,
Jeff Mills,
Mars,
Andrew Hill,
Livin' Joy,
Masters at Work,
Minor Threat,
Matthew Bourne,
Tomorrow,
Faust,
The Grass Roots,
The Moody Blues,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra,
T. Rex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Litter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hashim,
Adolescents,
Moby Grape,
David McCallum,
Spandau Ballet,
Kayak,
The Vogues,
Gastr Del Sol,
R.M.O.,
Tres Demented,
The Star Department,
X-102,
Joyce Sims,
Hot Snakes,
Joensuu 1685,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.