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 Malawi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Television Personalities 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Curtis Mayfield,
Idris Muhammad,
John Holt,
Dorothy Ashby,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Motions,
Fear,
Gong,
Piero Umiliani,
LL Cool J,
New York Dolls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Erykah Badu,
Isaac Hayes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Make Up,
Scratch Acid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Schoolly D,
Howard Jones,
The Searchers,
Nick Fraelich,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Motorama,
Yazoo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yaz,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mad Mike,
Alice Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fugazi,
June of 44,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharoah Sanders,
FM Einheit,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Whodini,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fad Gadget,
Archie Shepp,
Harmonia,
Don Cherry,
Blossom Toes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Agent Orange,
Crash Course in Science,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Bauhaus,
Slick Rick,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.