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 Palau and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba 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 Terry Callier to the jazz 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Mills,
Marine Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Graham Central Station,
Aswad,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lungfish,
Sun City Girls,
Grauzone,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deadbeat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Faraquet,
Ultra Naté,
The Fortunes,
Country Teasers,
Rotary Connection,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Popol Vuh,
Joe Finger,
Television Personalities,
John Lydon,
Angry Samoans,
The Smiths,
Ken Boothe,
Japan,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
Lightning Bolt,
Visage,
Oneida,
Dark Day,
Severed Heads,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Average White Band,
Au Pairs,
The Invisible,
The Selecter,
Tres Demented,
F. McDonald,
Rosa Yemen,
Fugazi,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Wells,
Grey Daturas,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Normal,
Archie Shepp,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.