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 Zimbabwe and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Infiniti to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms,
Colin Newman,
Henry Cow,
Black Bananas,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blackbyrds,
Eric B and Rakim,
JFA,
Alice Coltrane,
Adolescents,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
The American Breed,
Fear,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Intrusion,
Andrew Hill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Michelle Simonal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Qualms,
Khruangbin,
Sparks,
Bronski Beat,
Sällskapet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amon Düül II,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
Gong,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echospace,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barbara Tucker,
AZ,
Man Eating Sloth,
Symarip,
Arthur Verocai,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Blake Baxter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Smiths,
The Divine Comedy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oblivians,
Ornette Coleman,
Los Fastidios,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Zeros,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.