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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Amon Düül to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Mandrill,
Wasted Youth,
The Happenings,
The Sonics,
The Walker Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
Crime,
The Wake,
The Cure,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Scrapy,
EPMD,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
Royal Trux,
Television,
X-102,
Sound Behaviour,
Ralphi Rosario,
Man Parrish,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Modern Lovers,
James White and The Blacks,
Circle Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Sugar Minott,
Negative Approach,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Second Layer,
Robert Wyatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacob Miller,
Susan Cadogan,
Fear,
Moby Grape,
Lalo Schifrin,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joey Negro,
Morten Harket,
The Monochrome Set,
Sam Rivers,
Visage,
John Cale,
The Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crispy Ambulance,
H. Thieme,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.