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 Indonesia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 The Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Intrusion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
a-ha,
Ludus,
The Electric Prunes,
Morten Harket,
The Monochrome Set,
Eve St. Jones,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warsaw,
Howard Jones,
Crooked Eye,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Angry Samoans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roy Ayers,
Barry Ungar,
Rod Modell,
Loose Ends,
Brass Construction,
Hashim,
Tubeway Army,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
Masters at Work,
Blake Baxter,
Funkadelic,
Babytalk,
Adolescents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Model 500,
Ultravox,
Scientists,
Ornette Coleman,
Nas,
The Gories,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Interpol,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
Black Sheep,
The Move,
Bauhaus,
Hot Snakes,
Audionom,
New Age Steppers,
The Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sandy B,
EPMD,
B.T. Express,
Von Mondo,
The Associates,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
John Lydon,
Rhythm & Sound,
T. Rex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.