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 Angola and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin 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 Eric Dolphy to the grunge 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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
Jacob Miller,
The Residents,
Marshall Jefferson,
Groovy Waters,
The Fortunes,
Mo-Dettes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marvin Gaye,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Bar-Kays,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Franke,
The Dave Clark Five,
Reuben Wilson,
U.S. Maple,
Bad Manners,
Deepchord,
Tomorrow,
The Durutti Column,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
Scan 7,
Glenn Branca,
The Misunderstood,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
a-ha,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amon Düül,
Jawbox,
cv313,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Offenders,
Fear,
Minny Pops,
Pulsallama,
X-101,
Barrington Levy,
Pierre Henry,
Donny Hathaway,
Interpol,
Motorama,
The Standells,
Althea and Donna,
Chris Corsano,
CMW,
The Fugs,
Anakelly,
Michelle Simonal,
Qualms,
DNA,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.