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 Kiribati and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Monks to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Shuggie Otis,
The Five Americans,
Tomorrow,
Ultravox,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Fraelich,
ABBA,
Bobby Womack,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cure,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Smooth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Juan Atkins,
Faraquet,
Average White Band,
The Divine Comedy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Human League,
Dead Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Axelrod,
Kayak,
Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skarface,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip,
The Offenders,
Delta 5,
a-ha,
Neil Young,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alison Limerick,
The Fortunes,
Funkadelic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Christie,
Roger Hodgson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
T.S.O.L.,
The Remains,
Pole,
The Fuzztones,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Slave,
The Red Krayola,
Negative Approach,
KRS-One,
Oneida,
Kerrie Biddell,
Unwound,
Bill Wells,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moby Grape,
Quantec,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.