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 Georgia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
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 theremin 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 Underground Resistance to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Glenn Branca,
Mars,
Girls At Our Best!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Magma,
The Selecter,
Ken Boothe,
Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jawbox,
Deakin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
CMW,
Roy Ayers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Five Americans,
The Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mojo Men,
Black Sheep,
Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
Eurythmics,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gang Gang Dance,
Average White Band,
Loose Ends,
Eric Dolphy,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rapeman,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
Minny Pops,
Faraquet,
Suburban Knight,
Joyce Sims,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arcadia,
Letta Mbulu,
Moss Icon,
Gong,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Das Ding,
The Skatalites,
Sarah Menescal,
Alice Coltrane,
Visage,
Au Pairs,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
Sight & Sound,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.