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 Kazakhstan and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Blancmange,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Parrish,
the Normal,
the Association,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neu!,
The Monochrome Set,
the Soft Cell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Count Five,
Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gladiators,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lindisfarne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Outsiders,
Groovy Waters,
John Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Scion,
Suicide,
Jacques Brel,
Henry Cow,
Archie Shepp,
Sister Nancy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chrome,
David McCallum,
Ituana,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
China Crisis,
Depeche Mode,
Ultra Naté,
The Electric Prunes,
Das Ding,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Starr,
Sandy B,
Patti Smith,
David Axelrod,
D'Angelo,
Ronan,
Loose Ends,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.