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 Sri Lanka and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 B.T. Express to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Funky Four + One,
Danielle Patucci,
Parry Music,
The Monks,
Eve St. Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Move,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
Ohio Players,
The Happenings,
Outsiders,
Neil Young,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tears for Fears,
Toni Rubio,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Black Dice,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ossler,
Michelle Simonal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pantaleimon,
The Martian,
Alison Limerick,
Faraquet,
Marmalade,
Radiohead,
Arab on Radar,
Guru Guru,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David Axelrod,
Shoche,
Matthew Bourne,
Roxette,
Barbara Tucker,
Severed Heads,
Traffic Nightmare,
China Crisis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blake Baxter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scratch Acid,
Deepchord,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bad Manners,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Connie Case,
The Names,
Hashim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The American Breed,
D'Angelo,
Loose Ends,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.