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 Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Sandy B to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Gladiators,
World's Most,
Basic Channel,
Brass Construction,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fuzztones,
Brand Nubian,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Bar-Kays,
Tears for Fears,
The Slackers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Inner City,
Symarip,
Nirvana,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
Model 500,
the Normal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bauhaus,
Eric Copeland,
Amon Düül,
Qualms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Black Dice,
JFA,
The Mojo Men,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gong,
Cybotron,
Grauzone,
Los Fastidios,
Deadbeat,
MDC,
Infiniti,
the Slits,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra,
Duran Duran,
DNA,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Derrick May,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scan 7,
The Cramps,
Tubeway Army,
Reagan Youth,
Newcleus,
Neil Young,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Modern Lovers,
Quantec,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
Boz Scaggs,
Rosa Yemen,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.