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 Antigua and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Hot Snakes to the crunk 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pere Ubu,
Cecil Taylor,
Shoche,
Section 25,
The Last Poets,
Warsaw,
Theoretical Girls,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Stooges,
Bootsy Collins,
Marvin Gaye,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gories,
Magazine,
the Soft Cell,
Graham Central Station,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Groovy Waters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Happenings,
Lou Christie,
The J.B.'s,
Vainqueur,
L. Decosne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camberwell Now,
Crooked Eye,
The Motions,
Thee Headcoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arcadia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Q and Not U,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New Age Steppers,
Au Pairs,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
Arab on Radar,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Clarke,
The Tremeloes,
DJ Style,
Japan,
Kenny Larkin,
Hardrive,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Divine Comedy,
Ice-T,
Procol Harum,
The Searchers,
Depeche Mode,
Tres Demented,
Colin Newman,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.