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 Nicaragua and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pretty Things to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Mantronix,
The Mojo Men,
Q65,
H. Thieme,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Offenders,
Bang On A Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Yusef Lateef,
Ornette Coleman,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Raincoats,
Q and Not U,
Joe Smooth,
Theoretical Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Junior Murvin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Adolescents,
The Divine Comedy,
These Immortal Souls,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Unwound,
cv313,
F. McDonald,
Stereo Dub,
Joensuu 1685,
Television,
Niagra,
Sister Nancy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blancmange,
Pagans,
Charles Mingus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pussy Galore,
The Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Intrusion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Liliput,
Peter and Kerry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
10cc,
Dave Gahan,
Underground Resistance,
The Walker Brothers,
David Axelrod,
The Busters,
Public Enemy,
X-101,
Half Japanese,
The Dead C,
Minnie Riperton,
Young Marble Giants,
June of 44,
Wings,
Altered Images,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.