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 Dominican Republic and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
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 snare 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 T. Rex to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Metal Thangz,
Wasted Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
Derrick May,
Eric Copeland,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faust,
Public Enemy,
Gang Green,
Symarip,
Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scan 7,
Andrew Hill,
The Standells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fat Boys,
Agitation Free,
Royal Trux,
Sixth Finger,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Danielle Patucci,
Donny Hathaway,
Nas,
Idris Muhammad,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Birthday Party,
Malaria!,
Franke,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fugs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Buzzcocks,
Scott Walker,
La Düsseldorf,
the Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suicide,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dead C,
Letta Mbulu,
Sällskapet,
The Litter,
The Raincoats,
Brick,
Jandek,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skarface,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Howard Jones,
the Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Selecter,
Newcleus,
Sam Rivers,
The Leaves,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Altered Images,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.