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 Nigeria and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Barracudas to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Toni Rubio,
Magazine,
the Sonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thee Headcoats,
Delon & Dalcan,
H. Thieme,
Harmonia,
Stiv Bators,
June of 44,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T. Rex,
Banda Bassotti,
Glenn Branca,
Eve St. Jones,
Nas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Royal Trux,
Cluster,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smoke,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arab on Radar,
Nik Kershaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dead Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
Hoover,
Ossler,
Rosa Yemen,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
Reuben Wilson,
Mo-Dettes,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
Ultravox,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Hood,
Organ,
Sound Behaviour,
Althea and Donna,
E-Dancer,
Marvin Gaye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marine Girls,
Amazonics,
Intrusion,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Donald Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Red Krayola,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.