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 Dominican Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Goldenarms to the electroclash 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Frankie Knuckles,
New York Dolls,
Stereo Dub,
Sugar Minott,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
Swell Maps,
The Selecter,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Count Five,
Adolescents,
CMW,
Gang Gang Dance,
Electric Prunes,
Kenny Larkin,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scion,
One Last Wish,
Groovy Waters,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Supertramp,
Flash Fearless,
Agent Orange,
The Kinks,
The Zeros,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joyce Sims,
The Blues Magoos,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Birthday Party,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Hood,
Neu!,
Vainqueur,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
Kas Product,
Arab on Radar,
Soft Cell,
Sällskapet,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Machine,
Judy Mowatt,
Blake Baxter,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Sherman,
Faraquet,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
JFA,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
Gastr Del Sol,
Terry Callier,
The Litter,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.