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 Maldives and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 David Bowie 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 Second Layer 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Style,
Sex Pistols,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
Alton Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
Blancmange,
Saccharine Trust,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Josef K,
Moebius,
Animal Collective,
Judy Mowatt,
Fela Kuti,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Whodini,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q and Not U,
Arthur Verocai,
Minor Threat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bill Wells,
The Walker Brothers,
Gichy Dan,
The Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Halsall,
Barrington Levy,
Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
Pantytec,
the Normal,
The Searchers,
Ludus,
Hasil Adkins,
Tubeway Army,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
A Certain Ratio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Babytalk,
Alphaville,
James White and The Blacks,
Monolake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Letta Mbulu,
Television Personalities,
Marmalade,
Minutemen,
The Star Department,
The Happenings,
Terrestrial Tones,
kango's stein massive,
Hoover,
Andrew Hill,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.