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 Pakistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Hood to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Faust,
Ken Boothe,
Danielle Patucci,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The United States of America,
The Gun Club,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harry Pussy,
Warsaw,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
Wings,
Altered Images,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moebius,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Wyatt,
Zero Boys,
Yaz,
Don Cherry,
Technova,
Make Up,
Pagans,
Minny Pops,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Toasters,
Gang Green,
Faraquet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacob Miller,
Bill Wells,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dual Sessions,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slits,
Franke,
The Slackers,
ABBA,
The Wake,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers,
Chris Corsano,
Swell Maps,
Radiopuhelimet,
Circle Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sixth Finger,
Slick Rick,
Guru Guru,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Osbourne,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reagan Youth,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.