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 Korea South and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blake Baxter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Scott Walker,
CMW,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boogie Down Productions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Monolake,
Essential Logic,
Malaria!,
Blancmange,
Fugazi,
Sugar Minott,
Moby Grape,
Ludus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Maurizio,
Bobby Sherman,
Ken Boothe,
Country Teasers,
Black Sheep,
Absolute Body Control,
JFA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
Sixth Finger,
Piero Umiliani,
Al Stewart,
Tomorrow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Skatalites,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pylon,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quantec,
Gil Scott Heron,
Danielle Patucci,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ponytail,
Joey Negro,
Cecil Taylor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Supertramp,
Intrusion,
Buzzcocks,
Roger Hodgson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lebanon Hanover,
China Crisis,
This Heat,
Henry Cow,
Sparks,
Kerri Chandler,
Guru Guru,
Ronnie Foster,
Juan Atkins,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.