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 Indonesia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tears for Fears to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Associates,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brick,
KRS-One,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Audionom,
Q and Not U,
Popol Vuh,
Faraquet,
Joe Finger,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harry Pussy,
Country Teasers,
Pole,
David McCallum,
Simply Red,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris Corsano,
Yazoo,
The United States of America,
Altered Images,
Massinfluence,
X-102,
Max Romeo,
Mars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Talk Talk,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Surgeon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
PIL,
Negative Approach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Animal Collective,
Barbara Tucker,
Fad Gadget,
Amon Düül II,
The Mummies,
Cal Tjader,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers,
Kayak,
Grauzone,
The Zeros,
Deepchord,
L. Decosne,
Los Fastidios,
Tim Buckley,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
The Grass Roots,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.