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 Australia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Dead Boys,
Ice-T,
Altered Images,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Carl Craig,
Sparks,
Boz Scaggs,
The Evens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deepchord,
Magma,
Maurizio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Barry Ungar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minutemen,
Bobby Sherman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Iggy Pop,
Lungfish,
The Barracudas,
JFA,
Unwound,
Make Up,
Chris & Cosey,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Babytalk,
Hashim,
X-101,
Don Cherry,
D'Angelo,
Fat Boys,
Scientists,
Outsiders,
The Grass Roots,
Deakin,
Y Pants,
Jeff Mills,
The Music Machine,
Pierre Henry,
China Crisis,
Heaven 17,
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brass Construction,
The Durutti Column,
Youth Brigade,
Newcleus,
Jerry's Kids,
Man Parrish,
Marc Almond,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare,
Can,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.