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 Poland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Hacienda.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Buzzcocks,
Jawbox,
Connie Case,
The Tremeloes,
Letta Mbulu,
Oblivians,
Ludus,
Television Personalities,
Country Teasers,
Sällskapet,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Peter and Kerry,
10cc,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soul II Soul,
Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
The Martian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monochrome Set,
The Gap Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Half Japanese,
Crispian St. Peters,
One Last Wish,
Quando Quango,
Ice-T,
Ohio Players,
Terry Callier,
Mission of Burma,
Carl Craig,
Camouflage,
Jandek,
Brand Nubian,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fatback Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Livin' Joy,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sparks,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra,
Skaos,
48th St. Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Stooges,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.