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 Saudi Arabia and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Byron Stingily to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fugazi,
Camberwell Now,
Fela Kuti,
The Index,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Joey Negro,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Lou Reed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Seeds,
Reagan Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Buzzcocks,
Electric Prunes,
Ice-T,
Bush Tetras,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Hood,
Quantec,
Sarah Menescal,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Invisible,
10cc,
Young Marble Giants,
Fat Boys,
Pagans,
Todd Terry,
Quando Quango,
The Names,
The Durutti Column,
Bob Dylan,
E-Dancer,
Spoonie Gee,
Don Cherry,
Loose Ends,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Five Americans,
Sun City Girls,
Smog,
Kayak,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monks,
Audionom,
Rapeman,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Starr,
Ultra Naté,
Man Parrish,
Cluster,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Schoolly D,
Silicon Teens,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.