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 South Africa and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer 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 Sam Rivers to the disco 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
Procol Harum,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slackers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Toasters,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
Subhumans,
Severed Heads,
Wire,
Parry Music,
The Doors,
Rhythm & Sound,
Average White Band,
Connie Case,
The Cowsills,
Rod Modell,
Negative Approach,
Alison Limerick,
Swell Maps,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
X-102,
Arthur Verocai,
Dawn Penn,
The American Breed,
Oneida,
In Retrospect,
The Young Rascals,
Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Trumans Water,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magazine,
Alton Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
The J.B.'s,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New Order,
Monolake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Khruangbin,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Ronan,
Cymande,
The Blackbyrds,
The United States of America,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.