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 Bahamas and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brass Construction to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fad Gadget,
Alton Ellis,
Joe Smooth,
The Gun Club,
the Soft Cell,
Cluster,
The Fuzztones,
Terry Callier,
Nick Fraelich,
Funky Four + One,
Frankie Knuckles,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
The Buckinghams,
Black Moon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ludus,
Hoover,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Saints,
Tommy Roe,
Neil Young,
Blancmange,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aaron Thompson,
The Last Poets,
Gerry Rafferty,
Arthur Verocai,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Funkadelic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eddi Front,
Prince Buster,
AZ,
The Young Rascals,
In Retrospect,
Lucky Dragons,
Procol Harum,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Freddie Wadling,
The Toasters,
U.S. Maple,
Audionom,
Dawn Penn,
Shoche,
Pussy Galore,
Von Mondo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dual Sessions,
The J.B.'s,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.