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 Turkmenistan and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Holger Czukay 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 Wolf Eyes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Livin' Joy,
Lindisfarne,
Black Flag,
Stiv Bators,
Harmonia,
Brass Construction,
AZ,
Godley & Creme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alison Limerick,
Audionom,
The Doors,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Piero Umiliani,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Holt,
The Fire Engines,
Liliput,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
Funky Four + One,
Section 25,
Spoonie Gee,
Blake Baxter,
The Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jandek,
Scratch Acid,
Agent Orange,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boz Scaggs,
10cc,
Man Parrish,
Monolake,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Electric Prunes,
Pantaleimon,
The Modern Lovers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Buzzcocks,
Y Pants,
Jeff Lynne,
Faraquet,
Shoche,
The Kinks,
Eurythmics,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Happenings,
Grey Daturas,
Visage,
The Move,
Flipper,
Icehouse,
Lungfish,
The Slits,
Suicide,
Fad Gadget,
The Neon Judgement,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.