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 Panama and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Junior Murvin to the funk 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Popol Vuh,
Morten Harket,
The Cure,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
Rapeman,
48th St. Collective,
Dual Sessions,
The Blackbyrds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül II,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains,
Glenn Branca,
Pagans,
Procol Harum,
Radiohead,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ituana,
the Normal,
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Jerry's Kids,
Stetsasonic,
Scion,
Stereo Dub,
Eric Copeland,
Radio Birdman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moebius,
Darondo,
Blossom Toes,
Dave Gahan,
Bush Tetras,
Sex Pistols,
Qualms,
The Selecter,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Christie,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
A Certain Ratio,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Joey Negro,
Derrick Morgan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brothers Johnson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Motions,
The Red Krayola,
T. Rex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Excepter,
PIL,
The Modern Lovers,
Brand Nubian,
Peter & Gordon,
Faust,
Swans,
Kas Product,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.