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 Congo and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Erykah Badu to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Echospace,
Brick,
Eddi Front,
Grey Daturas,
The Grass Roots,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Jacques Brel,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
Slave,
Danielle Patucci,
The Leaves,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lakeside,
Barbara Tucker,
Crooked Eye,
New Order,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June Days,
Suicide,
Neil Young,
Peter and Kerry,
Rotary Connection,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Wells,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pierre Henry,
The Misunderstood,
The Gun Club,
Agent Orange,
Gong,
Rod Modell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lower 48,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul II Soul,
Derrick May,
Tears for Fears,
Sonic Youth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Count Five,
Prince Buster,
Qualms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kenny Larkin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Zapp,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sonics,
Babytalk,
Barclay James Harvest,
Steve Hackett,
The Skatalites,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.