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 Liberia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 Fugazi to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Crispy Ambulance,
Royal Trux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops,
Ornette Coleman,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mojo Men,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
Moby Grape,
Stiv Bators,
Agitation Free,
Interpol,
Warsaw,
Anthony Braxton,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Parry Music,
Pharoah Sanders,
World's Most,
The Durutti Column,
Khruangbin,
Nick Fraelich,
Toni Rubio,
Blake Baxter,
Joyce Sims,
Magma,
Connie Case,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maurizio,
Dual Sessions,
Dennis Brown,
Flipper,
the Slits,
Faust,
CMW,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABC,
Inner City,
Alice Coltrane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Zapp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Starr,
Jerry's Kids,
Arab on Radar,
Archie Shepp,
Das Ding,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Guru Guru,
AZ,
Faraquet,
Neil Young,
X-102,
Hashim,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.