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 Malawi and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grauzone to the rap 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Supertramp,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eve St. Jones,
The Vogues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minnie Riperton,
Main Source,
The Busters,
Scan 7,
T.S.O.L.,
Skaos,
Bang On A Can,
Faust,
Television Personalities,
Yellowson,
The Fortunes,
Swans,
The Victims,
Khruangbin,
Barbara Tucker,
Harmonia,
Albert Ayler,
KRS-One,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ohio Players,
Fatback Band,
Slick Rick,
Alison Limerick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Toni Rubio,
Dawn Penn,
Gang Green,
Chris Corsano,
Fluxion,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
Funkadelic,
Ituana,
Mission of Burma,
The Mojo Men,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Goldenarms,
The Residents,
Warsaw,
Ponytail,
Brothers Johnson,
Shoche,
Tres Demented,
Franke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
The Tremeloes,
H. Thieme,
The Seeds,
The Fugs,
The New Christs,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Piero Umiliani,
Derrick May,
Barrington Levy,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.