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 Maldives and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Accadde A to the rock 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Remains,
Scan 7,
John Foxx,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lee Hazlewood,
Youth Brigade,
Sällskapet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wasted Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Angry Samoans,
Althea and Donna,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Osbourne,
Urselle,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Matthew Bourne,
Motorama,
Smog,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boredoms,
The Grass Roots,
Eve St. Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Organ,
Sound Behaviour,
John Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thompson Twins,
Flamin' Groovies,
PIL,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brick,
The Electric Prunes,
These Immortal Souls,
Circle Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Carl Craig,
Khruangbin,
Camouflage,
Theoretical Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
D'Angelo,
The American Breed,
The Gap Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ken Boothe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Wake,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spoonie Gee,
Ponytail,
Zero Boys,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.