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 Kenya and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Das Ding to the grunge 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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
R.M.O.,
John Holt,
Visage,
Brand Nubian,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Pus,
Wasted Youth,
Loose Ends,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gap Band,
Harry Pussy,
Stereo Dub,
Second Layer,
Prince Buster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marshall Jefferson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pere Ubu,
Spoonie Gee,
Tomorrow,
Scion,
Banda Bassotti,
Alphaville,
Anakelly,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eve St. Jones,
Flash Fearless,
The Monks,
Country Teasers,
Ultravox,
Ornette Coleman,
Jacques Brel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magma,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
B.T. Express,
The Smoke,
Wolf Eyes,
Quadrant,
The Sonics,
Make Up,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Radio Birdman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Intrusion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Theoretical Girls,
The Searchers,
U.S. Maple,
Icehouse,
Minor Threat,
The Knickerbockers,
Soft Machine,
X-102,
Soulsonic Force,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.