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 Paraguay and from Milan.
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 Jakarta and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes 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 The Raincoats to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
The United States of America,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Monolake,
Kayak,
Grauzone,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tommy Roe,
Maleditus Sound,
Little Man,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maurizio,
Buzzcocks,
Swans,
Pantytec,
David Bowie,
Scientists,
The Angels of Light,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
Tres Demented,
Connie Case,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Christie,
Monks,
Khruangbin,
The Neon Judgement,
China Crisis,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronan,
Toni Rubio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stereo Dub,
Jawbox,
Los Fastidios,
Dave Gahan,
Sex Pistols,
The Stooges,
Scrapy,
The Vogues,
The J.B.'s,
The Moleskins,
Moebius,
The Durutti Column,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pole,
Ultravox,
In Retrospect,
Lakeside,
The Last Poets,
Royal Trux,
The Sonics,
MDC,
Laurel Aitken,
X-102,
Freddie Wadling,
Suburban Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Howard Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.