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 Romania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare 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 Lou Christie to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike 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?
The Gladiators,
Bobby Womack,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Michelle Simonal,
Brick,
Talk Talk,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gap Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalann,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Selecter,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Divine Comedy,
Radiohead,
The Evens,
Rekid,
The Motions,
Erykah Badu,
The American Breed,
The Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Animal Collective,
Amon Düül II,
Laurel Aitken,
Hasil Adkins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Human League,
Ituana,
Little Man,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter & Gordon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dead C,
Von Mondo,
Ken Boothe,
Kaleidoscope,
John Holt,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Mills,
Carl Craig,
The Toasters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
The Pop Group,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Absolute Body Control,
Minutemen,
The Smiths,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.