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 Japan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lucky Dragons to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Hashim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Arcadia,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
La Düsseldorf,
Wings,
The Human League,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Audionom,
Rekid,
Swell Maps,
Khruangbin,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monochrome Set,
This Heat,
New Order,
Roxy Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter and Kerry,
Slick Rick,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aswad,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Minutemen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronnie Foster,
Chrome,
Don Cherry,
Nils Olav,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
The Young Rascals,
Juan Atkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
Anakelly,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
Marine Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
the Germs,
Supertramp,
Fatback Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rod Modell,
Pylon,
Josef K,
The Victims,
CMW,
Reagan Youth,
Half Japanese,
Joy Division,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
B.T. Express,
Monolake,
Thompson Twins,
Soft Machine,
Rotary Connection,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.