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 Serbia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 The Vogues to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Thee Headcoats,
Faust,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Qualms,
Iggy Pop,
Susan Cadogan,
The Young Rascals,
Surgeon,
David McCallum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grey Daturas,
Dorothy Ashby,
10cc,
Blossom Toes,
Hardrive,
The Dead C,
Bobby Womack,
Sonny Sharrock,
Organ,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Mad Mike,
Sex Pistols,
The United States of America,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
kango's stein massive,
the Association,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rekid,
Audionom,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
the Slits,
Joe Smooth,
World's Most,
Stiv Bators,
Accadde A,
X-Ray Spex,
Saccharine Trust,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
David Bowie,
Procol Harum,
Mission of Burma,
The Durutti Column,
Severed Heads,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kas Product,
Rapeman,
Animal Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
Marc Almond,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Morten Harket,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Model 500,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.