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 Honduras and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Amon Düül to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeff Lynne,
Isaac Hayes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oneida,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantaleimon,
The Birthday Party,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Jawbox,
The Moody Blues,
Severed Heads,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Skatalites,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
MC5,
Moss Icon,
L. Decosne,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amazonics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Panda Bear,
Sandy B,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Electric Prunes,
Rotary Connection,
PIL,
The Doobie Brothers,
Supertramp,
John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joey Negro,
The Count Five,
The Evens,
Arab on Radar,
Ludus,
Bobby Sherman,
Inner City,
Wire,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fela Kuti,
Yaz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
This Heat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eve St. Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
Johnny Osbourne,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.