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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 Agent Orange to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield 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 grime 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Fire Engines,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun City Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Aloha Tigers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aaron Thompson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Au Pairs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
LL Cool J,
Alton Ellis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Masters at Work,
Nation of Ulysses,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
E-Dancer,
John Foxx,
Scientists,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David Axelrod,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultra Naté,
T. Rex,
Popol Vuh,
Bauhaus,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Malaria!,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Steve Hackett,
Moebius,
The Music Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tres Demented,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ludus,
Lower 48,
Jandek,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pierre Henry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Terry Callier,
OOIOO,
The Misunderstood,
Supertramp,
Ohio Players,
Howard Jones,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.