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 Algeria and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Fatback Band,
L. Decosne,
The Techniques,
Goldenarms,
Reuben Wilson,
The Vogues,
The Victims,
DJ Sneak,
Tommy Roe,
Theoretical Girls,
Malaria!,
World's Most,
The Pop Group,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
Bluetip,
Max Romeo,
Porter Ricks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Buckinghams,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
Pussy Galore,
The Gladiators,
Minutemen,
Carl Craig,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drexciya,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Sheep,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Todd Terry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
UT,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
Rufus Thomas,
Scion,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
Nirvana,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Howard Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Oblivians,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gap Band,
Nils Olav,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang On A Can,
Henry Cow,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare,
The Saints,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.