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 Zimbabwe and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Patti Smith to the techno 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
The Selecter,
New York Dolls,
Essential Logic,
Ituana,
Drexciya,
Marine Girls,
Can,
Shoche,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
Erasure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Judy Mowatt,
Crooked Eye,
Babytalk,
Kaleidoscope,
Mad Mike,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Womack,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Green,
Tom Boy,
Nas,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Ornette Coleman,
Rufus Thomas,
The Golliwogs,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blackbyrds,
Section 25,
Boz Scaggs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Royal Trux,
Gang of Four,
Nils Olav,
Cybotron,
This Heat,
Albert Ayler,
Stockholm Monsters,
a-ha,
Swell Maps,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joe Finger,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rosa Yemen,
The Human League,
T. Rex,
The Martian,
Dual Sessions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moss Icon,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crash Course in Science,
Delta 5,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.