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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Traffic Nightmare to the rock 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Normal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Livin' Joy,
Cameo,
Robert Görl,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Masters at Work,
Half Japanese,
Second Layer,
Index,
Moby Grape,
Rod Modell,
the Slits,
Godley & Creme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mars,
The Blackbyrds,
Blake Baxter,
Fugazi,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Trojans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crime,
John Lydon,
The Sonics,
Oneida,
Tommy Roe,
Goldenarms,
Zapp,
Howard Jones,
The Litter,
The Raincoats,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donald Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cheater Slicks,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
Rekid,
Bad Manners,
Surgeon,
Porter Ricks,
The Durutti Column,
Pylon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Man Parrish,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suburban Knight,
R.M.O.,
The Martian,
The Slits,
Quantec,
Dark Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Move,
China Crisis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blancmange,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.