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 Latvia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the grunge 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Surgeon,
Sarah Menescal,
Nik Kershaw,
Letta Mbulu,
Babytalk,
Zero Boys,
The Vogues,
Al Stewart,
Soft Cell,
Funky Four + One,
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers,
Jacob Miller,
B.T. Express,
Soft Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
Spandau Ballet,
Joe Finger,
World's Most,
Heaven 17,
The Monochrome Set,
The Wake,
Massinfluence,
Roxette,
Brass Construction,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Dolphy,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
U.S. Maple,
Leonard Cohen,
Prince Buster,
The Detroit Cobras,
PIL,
The Beau Brummels,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
DJ Style,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick Morgan,
Arthur Verocai,
Joey Negro,
Stereo Dub,
Johnny Clarke,
Cybotron,
Pantytec,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aswad,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roxy Music,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Guru Guru,
Agent Orange,
Hashim,
Chris Corsano,
CMW,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.