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 Georgia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Byron Stingily,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Babytalk,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun Ra,
Sällskapet,
Desert Stars,
Bill Near,
The Searchers,
Josef K,
The Toasters,
JFA,
Franke,
Donny Hathaway,
Whodini,
FM Einheit,
Chrome,
Susan Cadogan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris Corsano,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nick Fraelich,
Crash Course in Science,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fugs,
T. Rex,
Graham Central Station,
Maleditus Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bush Tetras,
Joyce Sims,
the Normal,
Infiniti,
Minor Threat,
Kerri Chandler,
Sam Rivers,
Make Up,
Sparks,
These Immortal Souls,
Skarface,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scrapy,
K-Klass,
Stiv Bators,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Davy DMX,
X-101,
Talk Talk,
Swell Maps,
Alison Limerick,
the Slits,
The Star Department,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Pretty Things,
Unwound,
The Mummies,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.