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 Palau and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Kerrie Biddell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Carl Craig,
Brass Construction,
Lightning Bolt,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Victims,
Faraquet,
Make Up,
the Germs,
Supertramp,
Patti Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Los Fastidios,
Lower 48,
Sun City Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Rosa Yemen,
Donald Byrd,
Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Newcleus,
Gong,
Althea and Donna,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacques Brel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nik Kershaw,
Livin' Joy,
Slick Rick,
the Soft Cell,
Index,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Tremeloes,
Scion,
The Move,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Glenn Branca,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gories,
E-Dancer,
Massinfluence,
The United States of America,
The Smoke,
Interpol,
DNA,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dead C,
Fatback Band,
Motorama,
Don Cherry,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Max Romeo,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
Bootsy Collins,
Moss Icon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.