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 Serbia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ituana,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
Bang On A Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Prince Buster,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Don Cherry,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Kayak,
The Dirtbombs,
The Toasters,
R.M.O.,
Pantytec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Basic Channel,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultra Naté,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers,
The Divine Comedy,
The Doors,
Franke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Morten Harket,
Pere Ubu,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Deadbeat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Hill,
The Moleskins,
Bauhaus,
MDC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter and Kerry,
Crime,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Reuben Wilson,
Panda Bear,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Sound,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Hardrive,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-101,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
KRS-One,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cluster,
Sixth Finger,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mummies,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.