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 Qatar and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the punk 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Judy Mowatt,
Stiv Bators,
Infiniti,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dark Day,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Martian,
The Toasters,
Das Ding,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pole,
Cymande,
Saccharine Trust,
The New Christs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rites of Spring,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Star Department,
X-101,
Man Parrish,
Faraquet,
Gang Green,
Mark Hollis,
Model 500,
Wolf Eyes,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Swans,
Cameo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
OOIOO,
Joe Smooth,
Sun City Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Moebius,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kurtis Blow,
Slick Rick,
Subhumans,
The Busters,
X-102,
Average White Band,
John Holt,
Duran Duran,
Maurizio,
The Index,
Bill Wells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tomorrow,
Lalann,
48th St. Collective,
Reuben Wilson,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.