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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Amon Düül,
Godley & Creme,
H. Thieme,
Arcadia,
Pagans,
Aaron Thompson,
Bootsy Collins,
Siglo XX,
Connie Case,
Robert Görl,
The Last Poets,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Underground Resistance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Half Japanese,
Malaria!,
Lucky Dragons,
Jawbox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
FM Einheit,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Don Cherry,
The Victims,
Soulsonic Force,
Magazine,
Minnie Riperton,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Livin' Joy,
Kurtis Blow,
Mo-Dettes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hoover,
Animal Collective,
Nils Olav,
The Offenders,
The Fugs,
The Seeds,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Pus,
The Star Department,
Scrapy,
CMW,
the Soft Cell,
Joey Negro,
Jacob Miller,
Junior Murvin,
Grauzone,
Andrew Hill,
The Red Krayola,
Reuben Wilson,
DNA,
Glambeats Corp.,
New York Dolls,
Inner City,
Lou Reed,
10cc,
Joyce Sims,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.