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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Neil Young to the punk 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angry Samoans,
Arthur Verocai,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Accadde A,
Barry Ungar,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jerry's Kids,
Goldenarms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Golliwogs,
Severed Heads,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sister Nancy,
Mantronix,
Lower 48,
Ten City,
Robert Görl,
Excepter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shoche,
Quando Quango,
The Pop Group,
Laurel Aitken,
Johnny Clarke,
Max Romeo,
The Wake,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spoonie Gee,
The Victims,
Gabor Szabo,
Blossom Toes,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
Maleditus Sound,
One Last Wish,
Alison Limerick,
Babytalk,
Crooked Eye,
Rotary Connection,
Y Pants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sight & Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Los Fastidios,
Buzzcocks,
Carl Craig,
Bronski Beat,
X-102,
Blake Baxter,
The Leaves,
Bob Dylan,
Eddi Front,
Black Pus,
The Move,
Nas,
The Fugs,
Cal Tjader,
The Knickerbockers,
cv313,
The Gun Club,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.