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 United Kingdom and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang of Four,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-101,
Delta 5,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
EPMD,
The Moleskins,
Saccharine Trust,
The Selecter,
Johnny Clarke,
Japan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Public Enemy,
Ultra Naté,
The Velvet Underground,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
Davy DMX,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The United States of America,
Au Pairs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marine Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül,
Fela Kuti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Freddie Wadling,
The Tremeloes,
John Foxx,
Byron Stingily,
Bob Dylan,
The Vogues,
Jandek,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
Rites of Spring,
Sun Ra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Flag,
Icehouse,
Scion,
The Leaves,
the Soft Cell,
DNA,
Aaron Thompson,
World's Most,
UT,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Wyatt,
Pere Ubu,
CMW,
Cheater Slicks,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.