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 Equatorial Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tubeway Army,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fugs,
Buzzcocks,
Ken Boothe,
The Durutti Column,
Soft Machine,
Agent Orange,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tres Demented,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Walker Brothers,
The Smiths,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mojo Men,
Make Up,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Intrusion,
Sonny Sharrock,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bootsy Collins,
The Wake,
Sparks,
The Pop Group,
Q65,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
The Grass Roots,
Circle Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Banda Bassotti,
Bizarre Inc.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Panda Bear,
Grauzone,
Quantec,
Janne Schatter,
The Fall,
Prince Buster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
DJ Sneak,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
Kayak,
Mars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Bananas,
Jacob Miller,
Jeff Lynne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Max Romeo,
Hardrive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.