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 Netherlands and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Depeche Mode to the rock 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Terry Callier,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fluxion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arcadia,
Yellowson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Accadde A,
The Red Krayola,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
Zapp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Pulsallama,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
AZ,
Popol Vuh,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Move,
Cheater Slicks,
Sandy B,
Fugazi,
The Associates,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
Magazine,
John Coltrane,
Ultravox,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ludus,
Moebius,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Camouflage,
Pierre Henry,
The Gories,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mojo Men,
Idris Muhammad,
Sugar Minott,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radiopuhelimet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New York Dolls,
KRS-One,
Tubeway Army,
Stiv Bators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dawn Penn,
the Slits,
The Star Department,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.