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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Cale,
the Swans,
The Young Rascals,
R.M.O.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rapeman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gabor Szabo,
Hot Snakes,
MDC,
Stetsasonic,
Sam Rivers,
Siglo XX,
Surgeon,
Deepchord,
The Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moody Blues,
the Germs,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultimate Spinach,
Porter Ricks,
Morten Harket,
The Searchers,
Hardrive,
The Trojans,
Roger Hodgson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Bourne,
UT,
Livin' Joy,
Pantaleimon,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Newcleus,
John Foxx,
Panda Bear,
Loose Ends,
Roxy Music,
Marine Girls,
One Last Wish,
Todd Terry,
Joey Negro,
Half Japanese,
Grandmaster Flash,
Throbbing Gristle,
Altered Images,
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
Eddi Front,
Byron Stingily,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Vainqueur,
10cc,
Intrusion,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.