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 Czech Republic and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge 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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jacques Brel,
Pere Ubu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Smooth,
The Fuzztones,
Tubeway Army,
Angry Samoans,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
LL Cool J,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
The Dead C,
Derrick May,
The Cramps,
Magazine,
The Martian,
The Standells,
Jacob Miller,
Livin' Joy,
Juan Atkins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Pop Group,
The Invisible,
Wally Richardson,
The Happenings,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick Morgan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharoah Sanders,
Inner City,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang of Four,
The Leaves,
Japan,
The Names,
Technova,
the Bar-Kays,
Sex Pistols,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Busters,
Godley & Creme,
The Smoke,
Pierre Henry,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Raincoats,
Ronnie Foster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Basic Channel,
Shuggie Otis,
Suburban Knight,
the Soft Cell,
The Barracudas,
Aloha Tigers,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.