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 Egypt and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Vladislav Delay to the rap 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
the Bar-Kays,
Mandrill,
Eli Mardock,
Ten City,
Suburban Knight,
Fat Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
Slick Rick,
Sällskapet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Archie Shepp,
La Düsseldorf,
Juan Atkins,
Brand Nubian,
Gabor Szabo,
Erasure,
Sam Rivers,
Hot Snakes,
Blake Baxter,
Max Romeo,
The Evens,
Eurythmics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joensuu 1685,
Bush Tetras,
Carl Craig,
Fluxion,
Unwound,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
U.S. Maple,
Wally Richardson,
Yazoo,
Stiv Bators,
Nirvana,
UT,
Sexual Harrassment,
Duran Duran,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kaleidoscope,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gun Club,
Andrew Hill,
Absolute Body Control,
The Count Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lower 48,
The Leaves,
Chrome,
The Black Dice,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Names,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.