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 Czech Republic and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Los Fastidios to the rap 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
OOIOO,
The Vogues,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Groovy Waters,
Rosa Yemen,
Flash Fearless,
The Divine Comedy,
Severed Heads,
The Star Department,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Junior Murvin,
The Knickerbockers,
JFA,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Count Five,
The Angels of Light,
Neu!,
Infiniti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultra Naté,
the Germs,
DNA,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moebius,
Reagan Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
KRS-One,
Magazine,
Deadbeat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Bourne,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Connie Case,
Carl Craig,
Accadde A,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Panda Bear,
Rotary Connection,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Cale,
The Grass Roots,
Ohio Players,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Susan Cadogan,
Royal Trux,
Lyres,
Girls At Our Best!,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Bananas,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.