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 Antigua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 F. McDonald to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Harpers Bizarre,
EPMD,
Fear,
Leonard Cohen,
Maleditus Sound,
Scientists,
The Durutti Column,
Bush Tetras,
UT,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soft Machine,
U.S. Maple,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Quantec,
Heaven 17,
Rufus Thomas,
B.T. Express,
New York Dolls,
John Coltrane,
Hardrive,
Girls At Our Best!,
Audionom,
Marine Girls,
Eric Copeland,
The J.B.'s,
CMW,
The Mummies,
Bobby Womack,
Mandrill,
Mantronix,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Das Ding,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Khruangbin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Prince Buster,
The Residents,
The New Christs,
Barrington Levy,
Eli Mardock,
Qualms,
Cameo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minor Threat,
John Cale,
Suicide,
Absolute Body Control,
JFA,
Wally Richardson,
The Black Dice,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tom Boy,
Pierre Henry,
Quadrant,
Ice-T,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monks,
Josef K,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.