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 Guinea-Bissau and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Piero Umiliani to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Tom Boy,
Soul II Soul,
Circle Jerks,
Loose Ends,
Joey Negro,
Anthony Braxton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Trojans,
The Real Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Anakelly,
The Moody Blues,
Mandrill,
Moebius,
Brand Nubian,
Infiniti,
The Smoke,
Section 25,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Germs,
Donald Byrd,
Fluxion,
Radio Birdman,
L. Decosne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Tremeloes,
Terry Callier,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Sherman,
Pulsallama,
Rufus Thomas,
Dawn Penn,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Supertramp,
Harry Pussy,
Delta 5,
Howard Jones,
Deakin,
Magazine,
Cameo,
Roxy Music,
Gong,
Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeff Mills,
T. Rex,
Rapeman,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
Khruangbin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blossom Toes,
Black Flag,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Motorama,
China Crisis,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.