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 Slovenia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 Pulsallama to the electroclash 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tim Buckley,
Harry Pussy,
Yellowson,
Bronski Beat,
Wasted Youth,
Byron Stingily,
The Tremeloes,
Maurizio,
Minny Pops,
Pere Ubu,
Sixth Finger,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Inner City,
The J.B.'s,
Icehouse,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mo-Dettes,
Rotary Connection,
Stockholm Monsters,
Suicide,
Soul II Soul,
Tom Boy,
Yaz,
Dead Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy Collins,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kas Product,
Ice-T,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare,
Kool Moe Dee,
Absolute Body Control,
Procol Harum,
Curtis Mayfield,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Spandau Ballet,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Near,
Hot Snakes,
Erykah Badu,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Fall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Half Japanese,
Scion,
Flash Fearless,
The Wake,
The Happenings,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
The Mummies,
Nils Olav,
Brand Nubian,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.