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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Rekid to the jazz 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Saints,
Cameo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeff Lynne,
New York Dolls,
Pierre Henry,
Gang of Four,
Dead Boys,
The Raincoats,
Khruangbin,
Eden Ahbez,
Rites of Spring,
The Associates,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Youth Brigade,
Brothers Johnson,
Minny Pops,
Marcia Griffiths,
Interpol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
10cc,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cybotron,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
Flash Fearless,
The Standells,
Sarah Menescal,
Joyce Sims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Bananas,
Robert Hood,
Boogie Down Productions,
48th St. Collective,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Warren Ellis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cramps,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lucky Dragons,
The Music Machine,
Don Cherry,
Circle Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Siglo XX,
Girls At Our Best!,
EPMD,
PIL,
The Gap Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Cale,
Warsaw,
Ponytail,
The Names,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.