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 Samoa and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
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 rhodes 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 Gichy Dan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Adolescents,
The Index,
Sonic Youth,
The Birthday Party,
Faraquet,
Vladislav Delay,
The New Christs,
Rakim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
MC5,
Harry Pussy,
Buzzcocks,
Absolute Body Control,
Faust,
Black Sheep,
Wasted Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
Davy DMX,
Whodini,
Guru Guru,
Sixth Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Susan Cadogan,
ABC,
The Kinks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marine Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young,
Aural Exciters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sister Nancy,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slits,
Iggy Pop,
Pere Ubu,
Sparks,
Subhumans,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Skarface,
Carl Craig,
Intrusion,
Popol Vuh,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ohio Players,
Model 500,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slackers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
The Selecter,
The American Breed,
The Dirtbombs,
FM Einheit,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arthur Verocai,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.