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 Senegal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 John Holt to the rock 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bluetip,
Malaria!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jacob Miller,
The Litter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Judy Mowatt,
The Saints,
Marvin Gaye,
Swell Maps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pussy Galore,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Monochrome Set,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Talk Talk,
James White and The Blacks,
Y Pants,
Hashim,
Prince Buster,
The Toasters,
Essential Logic,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
10cc,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
AZ,
The Shadows of Knight,
LL Cool J,
Barrington Levy,
Half Japanese,
JFA,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hardrive,
Depeche Mode,
The Beau Brummels,
Erykah Badu,
Brass Construction,
Symarip,
A Certain Ratio,
Wire,
the Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Avey Tare,
Maurizio,
Inner City,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Con Funk Shun,
Cameo,
Cluster,
Kurtis Blow,
Funkadelic,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.