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 Togo and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Supertramp to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Cymande,
Boredoms,
The Buckinghams,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tommy Roe,
Rakim,
The Stooges,
Joey Negro,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Malaria!,
Jandek,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
The Saints,
The Searchers,
DJ Sneak,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
10cc,
Whodini,
Juan Atkins,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monochrome Set,
Eden Ahbez,
Funky Four + One,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deakin,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cramps,
Sparks,
Neil Young,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Das Ding,
Barry Ungar,
B.T. Express,
Chrome,
AZ,
Inner City,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiohead,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Starr,
Ituana,
Eric Copeland,
The Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Terrestrial Tones,
Slick Rick,
X-102,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Soft Cell,
Black Bananas,
Pussy Galore,
Index,
Second Layer,
Funkadelic,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.