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 Lithuania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Last Poets to the crunk 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Tubeway Army,
Motorama,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Scan 7,
the Normal,
Sixth Finger,
Cybotron,
OOIOO,
Aswad,
Aural Exciters,
The Dead C,
Circle Jerks,
Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cramps,
The Skatalites,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Franke,
Black Flag,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Starr,
Bill Near,
Mr. Review,
The Black Dice,
Kaleidoscope,
Porter Ricks,
The Star Department,
Faraquet,
James White and The Blacks,
New York Dolls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Womack,
Arcadia,
La Düsseldorf,
Minnie Riperton,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Wake,
Metal Thangz,
Marc Almond,
Youth Brigade,
K-Klass,
Black Bananas,
Nick Fraelich,
Interpol,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eden Ahbez,
Moby Grape,
Tomorrow,
Blossom Toes,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Style,
MC5,
Fear,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.