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 Italy and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Silicon Teens to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Wings,
Charles Mingus,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Lydon,
The Martian,
Marmalade,
The Evens,
The Fall,
Metal Thangz,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pole,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Bowie,
Crime,
X-102,
Terry Callier,
Sugar Minott,
Kaleidoscope,
The Remains,
The Monks,
Visage,
the Normal,
JFA,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
The Modern Lovers,
Icehouse,
Japan,
The Blues Magoos,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pop Group,
Popol Vuh,
Jandek,
Mad Mike,
Toni Rubio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blake Baxter,
Alton Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Finger,
Cameo,
Lungfish,
Flash Fearless,
Mandrill,
Gong,
Hashim,
Archie Shepp,
KRS-One,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reagan Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
Underground Resistance,
Ultra Naté,
Bush Tetras,
Pantytec,
Dennis Brown,
Janne Schatter,
Fat Boys,
Minny Pops,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.