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 Denmark and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 Anakelly to the rap 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Evens,
The Angels of Light,
Masters at Work,
The Move,
Severed Heads,
D'Angelo,
Sun Ra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-102,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bauhaus,
Underground Resistance,
Don Cherry,
Skriet,
Adolescents,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ten City,
Donald Byrd,
Pole,
Talk Talk,
Mantronix,
Davy DMX,
Tom Boy,
Cymande,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Whodini,
Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ultra Naté,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
Khruangbin,
Sam Rivers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nik Kershaw,
Funky Four + One,
Joe Finger,
the Normal,
The Music Machine,
The Zeros,
Index,
The Doobie Brothers,
Metal Thangz,
Porter Ricks,
Visage,
Grey Daturas,
Erykah Badu,
Urselle,
Cal Tjader,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cowsills,
Reuben Wilson,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.