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 Nauru and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Altered Images to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
the Germs,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fortunes,
Magma,
Massinfluence,
The Gun Club,
Wings,
The Saints,
The Stooges,
The Blues Magoos,
Das Ding,
Joyce Sims,
Rosa Yemen,
CMW,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
AZ,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stetsasonic,
Outsiders,
Half Japanese,
Bronski Beat,
Leonard Cohen,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ituana,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
Neu!,
Gabor Szabo,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Tremeloes,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
Bobby Womack,
Intrusion,
The New Christs,
James White and The Blacks,
Ohio Players,
DJ Sneak,
The Electric Prunes,
Connie Case,
Parry Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Nils Olav,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ice-T,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aloha Tigers,
Moebius,
The Pretty Things,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mo-Dettes,
Thee Headcoats,
Bush Tetras,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.