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 Hungary and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 Quando Quango to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Lou Reed,
Steve Hackett,
The Mojo Men,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ronan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Surgeon,
The Litter,
Eddi Front,
Gang Green,
Unrelated Segments,
Radiohead,
Hashim,
Franke,
A Certain Ratio,
John Cale,
The Black Dice,
Symarip,
Idris Muhammad,
Terrestrial Tones,
Max Romeo,
David Bowie,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Suburban Knight,
Khruangbin,
48th St. Collective,
Von Mondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alton Ellis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tim Buckley,
The Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül II,
The Martian,
Rosa Yemen,
Interpol,
The Seeds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Motorama,
Smog,
The Techniques,
Laurel Aitken,
Aural Exciters,
The United States of America,
The Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Starr,
Anakelly,
Jawbox,
Grey Daturas,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Görl,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hasil Adkins,
The Vogues,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.