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 Saudi Arabia and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 the Association to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Jerry's Kids,
Au Pairs,
The Star Department,
Harpers Bizarre,
8 Eyed Spy,
Interpol,
Maurizio,
Absolute Body Control,
Arthur Verocai,
K-Klass,
Pulsallama,
Pylon,
Intrusion,
Althea and Donna,
The Saints,
Dave Gahan,
ABC,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Human League,
The Fortunes,
Harmonia,
the Normal,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lalann,
Lungfish,
This Heat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Procol Harum,
Ornette Coleman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dead C,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Wake,
Wally Richardson,
One Last Wish,
Animal Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
Sugar Minott,
Organ,
Funkadelic,
Cameo,
Aswad,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Birthday Party,
Mad Mike,
Jesper Dahlback,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
Alton Ellis,
Derrick May,
Skarface,
Massinfluence,
The Selecter,
the Swans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Buzzcocks,
The Velvet Underground,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.