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 Malta and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 The Residents to the techno 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joyce Sims,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Erykah Badu,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Roy Ayers,
Cecil Taylor,
Kenny Larkin,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Lynne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Suicide,
Country Teasers,
Brand Nubian,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nik Kershaw,
Camouflage,
Supertramp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The American Breed,
10cc,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wire,
The Gun Club,
Leonard Cohen,
A Certain Ratio,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole,
Rakim,
Duran Duran,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Style,
Bobby Byrd,
Judy Mowatt,
the Bar-Kays,
T. Rex,
Fluxion,
Magazine,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Colin Newman,
Vainqueur,
Deakin,
Symarip,
Tommy Roe,
La Düsseldorf,
Aural Exciters,
FM Einheit,
The Durutti Column,
Bad Manners,
Robert Hood,
Fatback Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Graham Central Station,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.