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 Liberia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Searchers,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quantec,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Green,
Ronnie Foster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Index,
Avey Tare,
The Grass Roots,
Ice-T,
Minor Threat,
The Five Americans,
Basic Channel,
Maurizio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Icehouse,
Kaleidoscope,
Guru Guru,
Oneida,
Jeff Mills,
Camberwell Now,
Franke,
The Residents,
Grey Daturas,
Soulsonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roxette,
Yaz,
Bobby Byrd,
Sonny Sharrock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Certain Ratio,
Rosa Yemen,
Little Man,
Can,
Alice Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
The Martian,
Y Pants,
Dawn Penn,
Toni Rubio,
Scientists,
Black Sheep,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
Arab on Radar,
Kayak,
Section 25,
Quadrant,
Kas Product,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.