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 Afghanistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Patti Smith to the disco 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kenny Larkin,
Can,
Excepter,
The Stooges,
Nirvana,
The Red Krayola,
Quando Quango,
Underground Resistance,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Susan Cadogan,
Jesper Dahlback,
The J.B.'s,
Kaleidoscope,
MDC,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cowsills,
Index,
Flipper,
Max Romeo,
The Remains,
Laurel Aitken,
Danielle Patucci,
Pulsallama,
Eric Copeland,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tubeway Army,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Funkadelic,
Eurythmics,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Severed Heads,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Saints,
Aswad,
Davy DMX,
Steve Hackett,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
R.M.O.,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Enemy,
Jawbox,
Cameo,
Mark Hollis,
Supertramp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Trumans Water,
Sister Nancy,
Ituana,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.