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 Samoa and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funkadelic to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Surgeon,
Zapp,
Matthew Bourne,
Spoonie Gee,
The Wake,
the Slits,
Graham Central Station,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
FM Einheit,
Terry Callier,
Supertramp,
Magazine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mars,
Sun Ra,
The Invisible,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Swans,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Divine Comedy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
The Motions,
Basic Channel,
Eden Ahbez,
The Slackers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Panda Bear,
Second Layer,
Cameo,
Jandek,
Deadbeat,
Kayak,
Heaven 17,
Unrelated Segments,
Faust,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Trojans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
OOIOO,
cv313,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Main Source,
The Fortunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stiv Bators,
Livin' Joy,
Rotary Connection,
The Black Dice,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.