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 Monaco and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Traffic Nightmare to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Sonic Youth,
The Evens,
a-ha,
Bobby Womack,
T. Rex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fela Kuti,
Crispy Ambulance,
Saccharine Trust,
Tomorrow,
Soft Machine,
Vainqueur,
Guru Guru,
Wings,
Procol Harum,
Jerry's Kids,
Eddi Front,
The Five Americans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Ice-T,
Freddie Wadling,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
Rotary Connection,
Bronski Beat,
Masters at Work,
The Velvet Underground,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
EPMD,
Cameo,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
MDC,
E-Dancer,
Derrick Morgan,
Thee Headcoats,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
K-Klass,
Skriet,
A Certain Ratio,
Sister Nancy,
Cluster,
Dual Sessions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lungfish,
Bill Near,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thompson Twins,
The Happenings,
8 Eyed Spy,
kango's stein massive,
Yellowson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun City Girls,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.