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 East Timor and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
X-101,
Marmalade,
Dual Sessions,
Fear,
Tommy Roe,
The Stooges,
Sam Rivers,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moody Blues,
The Angels of Light,
Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Smog,
Gang of Four,
Oblivians,
Wings,
Altered Images,
Quadrant,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Wyatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lou Christie,
KRS-One,
Erykah Badu,
Rekid,
Ultravox,
AZ,
Bill Near,
DJ Sneak,
Ronnie Foster,
Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rakim,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
Jeff Mills,
the Human League,
Warren Ellis,
Black Moon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eddi Front,
The Electric Prunes,
Aaron Thompson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Zero Boys,
Yellowson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Real Kids,
Rites of Spring,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jacob Miller,
The Mummies,
Cal Tjader,
Roger Hodgson,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.