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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Rosa Yemen to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
This Heat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Letta Mbulu,
Aswad,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aloha Tigers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Soft Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gun Club,
Wasted Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
OOIOO,
Black Flag,
The Durutti Column,
Sister Nancy,
Schoolly D,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tears for Fears,
Danielle Patucci,
Roger Hodgson,
The Raincoats,
Ronan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Cale,
Girls At Our Best!,
Faraquet,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Selecter,
Derrick May,
The Velvet Underground,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wolf Eyes,
Spoonie Gee,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tres Demented,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suicide,
Lightning Bolt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Parry Music,
Minutemen,
Bang On A Can,
Boogie Down Productions,
Electric Prunes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The J.B.'s,
Bush Tetras,
Amon Düül,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Foxx,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.