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 Brunei and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grime 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
ABC,
Sandy B,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun Ra,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Archie Shepp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Reagan Youth,
Procol Harum,
Mission of Burma,
June Days,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Warren Ellis,
Bush Tetras,
Radiopuhelimet,
Youth Brigade,
Sam Rivers,
Model 500,
The Leaves,
The Names,
DJ Sneak,
Bill Wells,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül,
Hasil Adkins,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
Kaleidoscope,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sex Pistols,
Gong,
The Human League,
The Grass Roots,
Magma,
The Index,
Delta 5,
The Trojans,
Lindisfarne,
The Zeros,
Laurel Aitken,
Yusef Lateef,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare,
Von Mondo,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fear,
Metal Thangz,
D'Angelo,
These Immortal Souls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blossom Toes,
John Holt,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Derrick May,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.