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 Syria and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Erykah Badu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes 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?
Television Personalities,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joey Negro,
New York Dolls,
Lalann,
Harry Pussy,
David Axelrod,
Rufus Thomas,
Fad Gadget,
Flipper,
These Immortal Souls,
Goldenarms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rotary Connection,
Amon Düül II,
Bauhaus,
the Soft Cell,
MDC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Pretty Things,
Joyce Sims,
H. Thieme,
Aural Exciters,
Masters at Work,
Juan Atkins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Kerri Chandler,
the Bar-Kays,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultimate Spinach,
Flash Fearless,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Raincoats,
Janne Schatter,
Bob Dylan,
The Sound,
Das Ding,
Mark Hollis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Seeds,
Oblivians,
The Walker Brothers,
the Association,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bad Manners,
The Martian,
DJ Style,
Junior Murvin,
Scott Walker,
The Knickerbockers,
Television,
Easy Going,
Davy DMX,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yaz,
Radiohead,
The Remains,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.