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 Tanzania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rapeman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
Terry Callier,
Kaleidoscope,
Los Fastidios,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronnie Foster,
The Slackers,
Letta Mbulu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Excepter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marshall Jefferson,
Todd Rundgren,
Cameo,
Marine Girls,
Goldenarms,
Rosa Yemen,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Knickerbockers,
The Misunderstood,
Brick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
The Associates,
Bauhaus,
John Coltrane,
The Selecter,
Electric Prunes,
Gabor Szabo,
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
The Saints,
Scrapy,
The Modern Lovers,
Monks,
The Seeds,
The Blackbyrds,
John Cale,
the Swans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echospace,
Sight & Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spandau Ballet,
Procol Harum,
The Monks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
kango's stein massive,
Crash Course in Science,
Michelle Simonal,
Isaac Hayes,
Surgeon,
Roxette,
Fear,
Scratch Acid,
The Music Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Intrusion,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.