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 Maldives and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gerry Rafferty to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The American Breed,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
The Move,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
Alphaville,
The Invisible,
Rufus Thomas,
Danielle Patucci,
Supertramp,
Public Enemy,
Grauzone,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Susan Cadogan,
Howard Jones,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Harry Pussy,
Gong,
Ituana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gichy Dan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gun Club,
Bluetip,
The Searchers,
Albert Ayler,
Yaz,
Faust,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kayak,
Ultra Naté,
Chris & Cosey,
Eddi Front,
Ultravox,
Pussy Galore,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Gang Dance,
ABBA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mojo Men,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy Collins,
Brass Construction,
Nik Kershaw,
Boredoms,
Joy Division,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Altered Images,
Wire,
Gabor Szabo,
Skaos,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.