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 Nauru and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 the Sonics to the electroclash 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
The Birthday Party,
Jacob Miller,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
Boz Scaggs,
Siglo XX,
Gil Scott Heron,
Con Funk Shun,
Rakim,
Intrusion,
The Invisible,
The Smoke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Matthew Bourne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Monks,
Cymande,
John Holt,
Brass Construction,
Juan Atkins,
Wings,
Infiniti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Slackers,
Magma,
the Soft Cell,
Wire,
Dark Day,
The Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Porter Ricks,
Rosa Yemen,
The Selecter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Smiths,
Joyce Sims,
Monolake,
John Coltrane,
Aswad,
Y Pants,
Average White Band,
The Victims,
Severed Heads,
Terry Callier,
Swans,
Mars,
Wally Richardson,
Mo-Dettes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sonics,
Negative Approach,
Robert Wyatt,
Los Fastidios,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
Ossler,
Hashim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tom Boy,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.