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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kerri Chandler,
H. Thieme,
Scratch Acid,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nas,
China Crisis,
Josef K,
John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
Section 25,
Youth Brigade,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare,
Pantaleimon,
Scientists,
Crooked Eye,
Aswad,
Au Pairs,
Adolescents,
The Seeds,
The Knickerbockers,
Quadrant,
Tears for Fears,
Kaleidoscope,
Byron Stingily,
Cluster,
Saccharine Trust,
Franke,
Blancmange,
Tubeway Army,
Kurtis Blow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The United States of America,
Erasure,
Qualms,
These Immortal Souls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zero Boys,
OOIOO,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flamin' Groovies,
MDC,
Skriet,
Minutemen,
Nirvana,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Swell Maps,
Gastr Del Sol,
Altered Images,
Wings,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.