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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the rock 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
UT,
Erykah Badu,
Monks,
Arab on Radar,
the Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New Age Steppers,
The Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eurythmics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pagans,
The Residents,
Newcleus,
The Leaves,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Nik Kershaw,
The Zeros,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Raincoats,
Nils Olav,
The Star Department,
Country Teasers,
Duran Duran,
X-Ray Spex,
Tomorrow,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Robert Hood,
Ronan,
Skarface,
Amon Düül II,
The Saints,
Nico,
The Tremeloes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Saccharine Trust,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Kerri Chandler,
Pierre Henry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Circle Jerks,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gories,
Toni Rubio,
Sandy B,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
F. McDonald,
Bluetip,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.