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 Honduras and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 F. McDonald to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Brothers Johnson,
EPMD,
Bad Manners,
The Names,
Kas Product,
the Normal,
Suicide,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
Livin' Joy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantytec,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Starr,
Faust,
Black Flag,
Sex Pistols,
The United States of America,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hasil Adkins,
Camouflage,
Derrick Morgan,
Dual Sessions,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Tom Boy,
Bronski Beat,
Grauzone,
The Gladiators,
Marine Girls,
The Birthday Party,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hashim,
Harry Pussy,
Bush Tetras,
Sixth Finger,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
The Move,
The Associates,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Minny Pops,
Eve St. Jones,
Neil Young,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
X-101,
JFA,
Con Funk Shun,
Alice Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.