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 Estonia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sarah Menescal to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arcadia,
This Heat,
Peter and Kerry,
Bad Manners,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Smog,
The Tremeloes,
Skarface,
Marine Girls,
Minutemen,
Drexciya,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Talk Talk,
Scion,
Tommy Roe,
Los Fastidios,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
Dead Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Davy DMX,
The Happenings,
Brothers Johnson,
Underground Resistance,
Funky Four + One,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rekid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Standells,
Franke,
Ten City,
Ituana,
Ultravox,
The Dead C,
Mad Mike,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mo-Dettes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cluster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Althea and Donna,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Second Layer,
David Axelrod,
Wings,
the Sonics,
Malaria!,
The Residents,
The New Christs,
Tom Boy,
Fatback Band,
ABBA,
Roxy Music,
Dawn Penn,
Archie Shepp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.