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 Pakistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
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 sitar 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 Joey Negro to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Roxy Music,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang of Four,
China Crisis,
The Human League,
Symarip,
Junior Murvin,
T.S.O.L.,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Index,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerri Chandler,
F. McDonald,
Harmonia,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wings,
X-Ray Spex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mark Hollis,
The Black Dice,
The Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Pus,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare,
Jawbox,
Lalann,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quando Quango,
The Doobie Brothers,
Clear Light,
Maurizio,
ABBA,
Hashim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marmalade,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Misunderstood,
Kenny Larkin,
Prince Buster,
Little Man,
Piero Umiliani,
Aural Exciters,
Joensuu 1685,
Whodini,
The Count Five,
Basic Channel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Association,
John Holt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Newcleus,
Nils Olav,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.