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 Costa Rica and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Gap Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rites of Spring,
Sugar Minott,
Minutemen,
Angry Samoans,
Amazonics,
Funky Four + One,
Man Parrish,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
Minor Threat,
Barbara Tucker,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mantronix,
The United States of America,
Lungfish,
The Searchers,
Al Stewart,
Ralphi Rosario,
Khruangbin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skaos,
Arab on Radar,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Happenings,
The Martian,
Mary Jane Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
ABBA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mr. Review,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Darondo,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry's Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Infiniti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Technova,
Roxy Music,
Supertramp,
Deakin,
Aloha Tigers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kayak,
The Red Krayola,
Derrick May,
Simply Red,
Symarip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mission of Burma,
Idris Muhammad,
Swans,
Hot Snakes,
New York Dolls,
Blake Baxter,
Cecil Taylor,
Eurythmics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nirvana,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.