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 Colombia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin 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 The American Breed to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Oneida,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wasted Youth,
Gichy Dan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Seeds,
Aloha Tigers,
Spoonie Gee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Adolescents,
Model 500,
H. Thieme,
The Blues Magoos,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Real Kids,
Moss Icon,
The Electric Prunes,
Franke,
Scott Walker,
Amon Düül,
Liliput,
Lungfish,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang Green,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Whodini,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
Mr. Review,
Iggy Pop,
A Certain Ratio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dirtbombs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jandek,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tim Buckley,
Au Pairs,
Lightning Bolt,
MC5,
Neil Young,
Don Cherry,
Prince Buster,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
the Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
CMW,
Ohio Players,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
Vladislav Delay,
the Human League,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chris Corsano,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.