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 Sweden and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the techno 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Ronnie Foster,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masters at Work,
Scion,
UT,
Peter & Gordon,
The Golliwogs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cecil Taylor,
Davy DMX,
Dual Sessions,
Nils Olav,
Ituana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
FM Einheit,
The Raincoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Lucky Dragons,
David Axelrod,
AZ,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
La Düsseldorf,
Derrick May,
Kerrie Biddell,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
Nas,
Swell Maps,
Cameo,
Rites of Spring,
Fear,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Residents,
Drexciya,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tommy Roe,
The Slits,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Adolescents,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Magazine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Starr,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxy Music,
Pagans,
Crime,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.