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 Germany and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
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 David Bowie 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 Severed Heads 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
This Heat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alton Ellis,
Mantronix,
Nas,
The Mojo Men,
Jandek,
Radio Birdman,
Suicide,
the Slits,
The Smiths,
Sandy B,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joensuu 1685,
Sister Nancy,
Ornette Coleman,
T. Rex,
The Leaves,
Charles Mingus,
Average White Band,
Jacques Brel,
Don Cherry,
The Offenders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Max Romeo,
Eric Dolphy,
Eddi Front,
Rapeman,
The Tremeloes,
Negative Approach,
Pulsallama,
Big Daddy Kane,
Severed Heads,
Ten City,
Bluetip,
The Modern Lovers,
The Durutti Column,
Reagan Youth,
The Slackers,
Ronnie Foster,
LL Cool J,
Gang Green,
Groovy Waters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Spoonie Gee,
Mandrill,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terrestrial Tones,
Banda Bassotti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Moby Grape,
The Stooges,
Sonny Sharrock,
Khruangbin,
Harry Pussy,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.