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 Somalia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Michael McDonald 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 The Buckinghams to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
The Mummies,
The Tremeloes,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crash Course in Science,
Dorothy Ashby,
Accadde A,
Danielle Patucci,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Neon Judgement,
The Buckinghams,
Isaac Hayes,
DNA,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx,
Whodini,
The Remains,
The Gladiators,
The Stooges,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moleskins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rekid,
Urselle,
Clear Light,
Easy Going,
The Fugs,
Terry Callier,
Kool Moe Dee,
Yusef Lateef,
Moby Grape,
Brand Nubian,
The United States of America,
KRS-One,
Juan Atkins,
AZ,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arab on Radar,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lightning Bolt,
Eli Mardock,
The Durutti Column,
Magazine,
The Golliwogs,
Graham Central Station,
Index,
Sun Ra,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed,
Radiohead,
Neil Young,
Buzzcocks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joyce Sims,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dual Sessions,
U.S. Maple,
Ituana,
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.