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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Alice Coltrane to the funk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Severed Heads,
Suburban Knight,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kerri Chandler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Cluster,
Barbara Tucker,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Normal,
Flipper,
Brothers Johnson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rites of Spring,
Agent Orange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Nik Kershaw,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric Copeland,
Aural Exciters,
The Invisible,
The Gap Band,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fortunes,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Byrd,
Chrome,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Associates,
The Seeds,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dirtbombs,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
L. Decosne,
Zapp,
Rufus Thomas,
Joe Smooth,
Mr. Review,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Slits,
the Association,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.