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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
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 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 Lou Reed 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 Barrington Levy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Symarip,
Schoolly D,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gun Club,
Don Cherry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
One Last Wish,
The Seeds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ornette Coleman,
Juan Atkins,
Pole,
Gang Gang Dance,
Adolescents,
Bill Wells,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
Fat Boys,
Parry Music,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fortunes,
R.M.O.,
Gang of Four,
Sixth Finger,
Mad Mike,
Reagan Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
Stetsasonic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moody Blues,
Average White Band,
Grauzone,
The Barracudas,
Gong,
The Real Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Residents,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Marvin Gaye,
Bob Dylan,
Mr. Review,
Flash Fearless,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bad Manners,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unwound,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dead C,
the Sonics,
Wolf Eyes,
The Busters,
Pylon,
Blossom Toes,
Country Teasers,
Marmalade,
Yellowson,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.