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 Pakistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
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 güiro 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 Girls At Our Best! to the disco 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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Rites of Spring,
Duran Duran,
The Trojans,
Chris Corsano,
The Fugs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
New Age Steppers,
Faraquet,
Amazonics,
Sugar Minott,
Loose Ends,
Juan Atkins,
Silicon Teens,
Todd Terry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mad Mike,
Bill Near,
Bobby Sherman,
Sex Pistols,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
Roger Hodgson,
Jawbox,
The Evens,
Tears for Fears,
The Motions,
Nick Fraelich,
Los Fastidios,
Flamin' Groovies,
Excepter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donald Byrd,
Cymande,
Peter and Kerry,
The Wake,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Davy DMX,
Pere Ubu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Subhumans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Little Man,
Danielle Patucci,
Rosa Yemen,
Ronnie Foster,
Maleditus Sound,
Interpol,
Ludus,
Malaria!,
Letta Mbulu,
Freddie Wadling,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.