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 Mozambique and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fear to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Starr,
Yazoo,
The Star Department,
Charles Mingus,
The Techniques,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gladiators,
Mantronix,
Amon Düül II,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Los Fastidios,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sugar Minott,
Alton Ellis,
Boz Scaggs,
The J.B.'s,
Organ,
Youth Brigade,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Blackbyrds,
The Evens,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Anthony Braxton,
Ronan,
Saccharine Trust,
Deakin,
The Tremeloes,
the Association,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
X-102,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Freddie Wadling,
Yellowson,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gun Club,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
New York Dolls,
Black Flag,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joensuu 1685,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.