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 Turkey and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Michael McDonald 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Gichy Dan,
Connie Case,
John Lydon,
The Last Poets,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
R.M.O.,
The Names,
Throbbing Gristle,
Depeche Mode,
The Cowsills,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun City Girls,
Grauzone,
Ohio Players,
Aswad,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerri Chandler,
Symarip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Henry Cow,
The Misunderstood,
The Music Machine,
Gong,
Lightning Bolt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
Suicide,
Albert Ayler,
Blake Baxter,
Joe Finger,
The Move,
Chris & Cosey,
The Angels of Light,
Camouflage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Leaves,
The Red Krayola,
Talk Talk,
Yellowson,
Tubeway Army,
Chris Corsano,
The Young Rascals,
Soul II Soul,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dorothy Ashby,
DNA,
Stiv Bators,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ossler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Index,
Pulsallama,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The New Christs,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.