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 Chad and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
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 rhodes 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Angry Samoans,
Slick Rick,
kango's stein massive,
Connie Case,
Panda Bear,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Leaves,
Mantronix,
Unwound,
Jacob Miller,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Danielle Patucci,
X-102,
Gong,
The Sound,
Severed Heads,
Eve St. Jones,
Moby Grape,
Erasure,
Yellowson,
cv313,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wings,
The Associates,
Suburban Knight,
T. Rex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suicide,
Mo-Dettes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Young Rascals,
The Fall,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Buckinghams,
K-Klass,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
Jandek,
Magazine,
Technova,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neu!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pylon,
Matthew Bourne,
Metal Thangz,
Tom Boy,
Pharoah Sanders,
The New Christs,
the Slits,
Tears for Fears,
Visage,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hashim,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.