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 Andorra and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
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 Mantronix to the grunge 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Offenders,
Minny Pops,
Easy Going,
Pantaleimon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Magma,
Intrusion,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Stetsasonic,
Eddi Front,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
The Seeds,
The Index,
Tommy Roe,
Soulsonic Force,
Janne Schatter,
Little Man,
John Lydon,
Kenny Larkin,
The Knickerbockers,
Cheater Slicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Germs,
Magazine,
Henry Cow,
June of 44,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Leaves,
Blancmange,
Lou Reed,
Arab on Radar,
Prince Buster,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
June Days,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
Hoover,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Names,
Peter and Kerry,
These Immortal Souls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Motorama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Tremeloes,
OOIOO,
The Human League,
Gang Starr,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.