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 Malaysia and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Sex Pistols to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David McCallum,
John Holt,
Jacques Brel,
The Young Rascals,
Scion,
Altered Images,
Inner City,
Skriet,
John Foxx,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gong,
Albert Ayler,
Goldenarms,
Grey Daturas,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Visage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yaz,
Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blossom Toes,
Amazonics,
Siglo XX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minutemen,
Black Flag,
ABC,
Fat Boys,
Royal Trux,
Ronan,
Ponytail,
Oblivians,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Associates,
Bang On A Can,
The Seeds,
Tubeway Army,
Jawbox,
The Busters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Au Pairs,
Todd Terry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lightning Bolt,
Unrelated Segments,
Isaac Hayes,
Porter Ricks,
Swans,
Accadde A,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.