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 Nauru and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 Cramps to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Pantytec,
Boz Scaggs,
Blake Baxter,
Scan 7,
Qualms,
The Gladiators,
The Seeds,
John Coltrane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Procol Harum,
Masters at Work,
Quadrant,
Brothers Johnson,
Excepter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Clarke,
The Knickerbockers,
Jandek,
Los Fastidios,
The Kinks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ludus,
Hashim,
Audionom,
Stetsasonic,
The Associates,
Derrick Morgan,
The Buckinghams,
Mission of Burma,
The Pretty Things,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
a-ha,
Deepchord,
Funkadelic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Misunderstood,
Scientists,
The Raincoats,
Soft Cell,
Magazine,
The Barracudas,
Brand Nubian,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Byrd,
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented,
Quando Quango,
Mark Hollis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Smiths,
Minutemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Royal Trux,
Spandau Ballet,
Infiniti,
The Moleskins,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.