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 Dominican Republic and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Crash Course in Science to the rock 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
T. Rex,
Livin' Joy,
DNA,
Television,
Cymande,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Green,
Arab on Radar,
Al Stewart,
These Immortal Souls,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fortunes,
Roxy Music,
Godley & Creme,
R.M.O.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Davy DMX,
Marc Almond,
The Cure,
Ludus,
The Doors,
Infiniti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
Robert Hood,
Eurythmics,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Popol Vuh,
Inner City,
The Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Banda Bassotti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Wells,
Man Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
The Barracudas,
Jandek,
Q and Not U,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mojo Men,
The Buckinghams,
Alice Coltrane,
The Monochrome Set,
Ralphi Rosario,
Junior Murvin,
The Associates,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Skatalites,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moleskins,
Crash Course in Science,
Jawbox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fela Kuti,
Barrington Levy,
Reuben Wilson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.