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 Botswana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Severed Heads to the grunge 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
Man Parrish,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pop Group,
T. Rex,
Tears for Fears,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Skriet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
Alison Limerick,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glambeats Corp.,
Excepter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Searchers,
New York Dolls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
Todd Rundgren,
Infiniti,
Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bush Tetras,
Minor Threat,
Ituana,
Traffic Nightmare,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cure,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bauhaus,
The Evens,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
Jawbox,
Bad Manners,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
cv313,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Angels of Light,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lungfish,
Toni Rubio,
The Barracudas,
Eli Mardock,
The Kinks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scan 7,
MDC,
Cymande,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Toasters,
Blossom Toes,
Maurizio,
The Fall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Carl Craig,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.