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 Uganda and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 MDC to the funk 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joey Negro,
Dawn Penn,
DNA,
Nick Fraelich,
Animal Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül,
Delta 5,
Rekid,
Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Guru Guru,
The Divine Comedy,
Electric Prunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Motions,
Wasted Youth,
Underground Resistance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Section 25,
The Mummies,
A Certain Ratio,
Little Man,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Outsiders,
The Fuzztones,
Arthur Verocai,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Moon,
Flipper,
The United States of America,
Crime,
Man Parrish,
Visage,
Ornette Coleman,
The Sonics,
Pantytec,
Pylon,
Marmalade,
Jawbox,
Sam Rivers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Erykah Badu,
Rakim,
Suicide,
H. Thieme,
Alphaville,
The Seeds,
Scientists,
Nils Olav,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lower 48,
Dark Day,
Lungfish,
Japan,
Ludus,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.