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 Saudi Arabia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro 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 The Beau Brummels to the dance 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Public Enemy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slick Rick,
Fat Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
the Swans,
Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
The Skatalites,
Outsiders,
Derrick Morgan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barrington Levy,
Jacob Miller,
Urselle,
The Fuzztones,
Average White Band,
David McCallum,
U.S. Maple,
Spoonie Gee,
One Last Wish,
Henry Cow,
Index,
Excepter,
Wire,
Saccharine Trust,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Subhumans,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Motions,
Pussy Galore,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
T.S.O.L.,
The J.B.'s,
Minnie Riperton,
Smog,
The Knickerbockers,
Youth Brigade,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Saints,
Curtis Mayfield,
Siglo XX,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Toasters,
Kerrie Biddell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Albert Ayler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Adolescents,
Sister Nancy,
Rekid,
Masters at Work,
Deadbeat,
Oblivians,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Clarke,
The Young Rascals,
Jimmy McGriff,
LL Cool J,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.