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 Equatorial Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Minnie Riperton to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Metal Thangz,
Barry Ungar,
Mars,
Max Romeo,
Funky Four + One,
Smog,
Silicon Teens,
Banda Bassotti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Subhumans,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Pole,
Sandy B,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eddi Front,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
R.M.O.,
Simply Red,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Teasers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
Underground Resistance,
Eric Copeland,
Pierre Henry,
Zapp,
Eric Dolphy,
OOIOO,
Make Up,
Black Sheep,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eli Mardock,
Albert Ayler,
Zero Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Mad Mike,
Quantec,
Mantronix,
Audionom,
Lower 48,
Arthur Verocai,
Moby Grape,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers,
The Moody Blues,
The Searchers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Amon Düül II,
Jawbox,
Vainqueur,
Intrusion,
Moss Icon,
Pussy Galore,
Ten City,
Niagra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.