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 Chad and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Sam Rivers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Ten City,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
FM Einheit,
DJ Style,
Sex Pistols,
Tim Buckley,
The Divine Comedy,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang of Four,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Charles Mingus,
New York Dolls,
Subhumans,
Altered Images,
Yazoo,
The Real Kids,
Harmonia,
Jacques Brel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Steve Hackett,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
Interpol,
Lou Reed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arab on Radar,
Alphaville,
Archie Shepp,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ronan,
Bronski Beat,
Ronnie Foster,
Flipper,
Matthew Bourne,
Rekid,
Marvin Gaye,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Skatalites,
Parry Music,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kurtis Blow,
T.S.O.L.,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alice Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Y Pants,
Visage,
Shoche,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pylon,
Kenny Larkin,
Rakim,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.