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 Eritrea and from London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spandau Ballet,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Marc Almond,
Excepter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Flag,
Public Enemy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Selecter,
Clear Light,
Michelle Simonal,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Dolphy,
Brass Construction,
The Evens,
Chris Corsano,
Animal Collective,
Crime,
Oneida,
Chrome,
New Order,
The United States of America,
Liliput,
The Searchers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Country Teasers,
Lucky Dragons,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
The Red Krayola,
Gabor Szabo,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slits,
Oblivians,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
Cheater Slicks,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
the Slits,
La Düsseldorf,
Scion,
The Monks,
the Normal,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Zapp,
Silicon Teens,
Brand Nubian,
Lyres,
Sparks,
Nils Olav,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-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.