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 Egypt and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron 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 Albert Ayler to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Severed Heads,
Youth Brigade,
The Mojo Men,
Bizarre Inc.,
LL Cool J,
The Pretty Things,
Morten Harket,
The Young Rascals,
Harry Pussy,
Tomorrow,
Soul II Soul,
Sight & Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Faraquet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
The Evens,
The Raincoats,
Camberwell Now,
Frankie Knuckles,
Icehouse,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pulsallama,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Black Dice,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skarface,
Todd Terry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pet Shop Boys,
Clear Light,
The Fortunes,
Bluetip,
Bootsy Collins,
Siglo XX,
Blake Baxter,
Hoover,
The Associates,
Circle Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Knickerbockers,
10cc,
Wally Richardson,
Cluster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Maurizio,
Nico,
Cameo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Steve Hackett,
48th St. Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Bad Manners,
Judy Mowatt,
Donald Byrd,
Lungfish,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.