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 Jamaica and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Jacob Miller to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Blossom Toes,
UT,
Qualms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Gladiators,
The Durutti Column,
Moebius,
Reagan Youth,
Smog,
Boz Scaggs,
Prince Buster,
Iggy Pop,
The Names,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bauhaus,
Boredoms,
Moss Icon,
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fat Boys,
The Litter,
Technova,
Barclay James Harvest,
Agent Orange,
Youth Brigade,
Hashim,
The Fall,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joey Negro,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
X-Ray Spex,
Don Cherry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mandrill,
Massinfluence,
Jacob Miller,
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The New Christs,
Visage,
Derrick Morgan,
Junior Murvin,
The Monochrome Set,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
Robert Görl,
Archie Shepp,
The Moleskins,
DNA,
Aloha Tigers,
Popol Vuh,
Lyres,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.