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 Panama and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the dance 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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalann,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Icehouse,
Yusef Lateef,
Angry Samoans,
Fear,
Rekid,
Josef K,
The Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Arthur Verocai,
Hoover,
The Moleskins,
The Mojo Men,
The Beau Brummels,
Flamin' Groovies,
Easy Going,
the Association,
The Index,
Brand Nubian,
Gichy Dan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed,
Michelle Simonal,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
Ten City,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gun Club,
Marine Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Colin Newman,
Section 25,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Godley & Creme,
Con Funk Shun,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eurythmics,
Wire,
Boz Scaggs,
Wings,
10cc,
The Walker Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Leonard Cohen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Public Enemy,
Dead Boys,
Fat Boys,
Duran Duran,
Neil Young,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Green,
X-Ray Spex,
Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.