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 Armenia and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
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 mellotron 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the disco 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Massinfluence,
The Fugs,
The American Breed,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
B.T. Express,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
K-Klass,
Duran Duran,
Danielle Patucci,
Loose Ends,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rekid,
Fad Gadget,
Ossler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Main Source,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
Idris Muhammad,
Faust,
Visage,
Sällskapet,
Japan,
The Techniques,
Colin Newman,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
CMW,
Severed Heads,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
EPMD,
The Vogues,
Jeff Lynne,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
Rosa Yemen,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
The Move,
Jimmy McGriff,
D'Angelo,
Clear Light,
Neil Young,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vladislav Delay,
L. Decosne,
The Martian,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Index,
U.S. Maple,
Yazoo,
Can,
Theoretical Girls,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.