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 Botswana and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Severed Heads to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Aloha Tigers,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Essential Logic,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bob Dylan,
Zero Boys,
Agent Orange,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
Clear Light,
The Dead C,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camberwell Now,
Funkadelic,
The Saints,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sun City Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Misunderstood,
Swell Maps,
Arcadia,
Hashim,
The Smoke,
Juan Atkins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fat Boys,
Gang Green,
Pagans,
Deadbeat,
Rites of Spring,
Minnie Riperton,
Ornette Coleman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Negative Approach,
Amon Düül II,
Roxy Music,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rufus Thomas,
Carl Craig,
E-Dancer,
Jeru the Damaja,
These Immortal Souls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barrington Levy,
Sun Ra,
The Happenings,
Suburban Knight,
Slave,
The Mojo Men,
The Fortunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Moody Blues,
UT,
Joyce Sims,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.