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 Poland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Dead Boys to the grime 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Porter Ricks,
June Days,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pere Ubu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Japan,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Grass Roots,
Kas Product,
Moby Grape,
Anakelly,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moody Blues,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bob Dylan,
Severed Heads,
Hashim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacques Brel,
Jandek,
Bill Near,
Cluster,
Gang of Four,
The Angels of Light,
Sixth Finger,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Model 500,
Jeff Mills,
Glenn Branca,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Monks,
The Wake,
Sandy B,
Lou Christie,
Buzzcocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cure,
Juan Atkins,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Smoke,
Joey Negro,
48th St. Collective,
Nico,
Arcadia,
Maurizio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Offenders,
Donald Byrd,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.