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 Ecuador and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Robert Palmer 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 Mandrill to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
La Düsseldorf,
The Index,
Eli Mardock,
Donny Hathaway,
The Wake,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun City Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott Heron,
cv313,
Dead Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
Q65,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Byrd,
Moby Grape,
The Doobie Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Rekid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cal Tjader,
Quando Quango,
The Angels of Light,
Angry Samoans,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
Lalo Schifrin,
Zapp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Association,
The Residents,
The Pretty Things,
The Grass Roots,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rapeman,
The Red Krayola,
Livin' Joy,
Groovy Waters,
Darondo,
KRS-One,
The Trojans,
Iggy Pop,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Toasters,
Aloha Tigers,
F. McDonald,
New York Dolls,
Crooked Eye,
Crime,
Sällskapet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Franke,
Kayak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cramps,
Prince Buster,
Soft Cell,
Sugar Minott,
Whodini,
Spoonie Gee,
Peter & Gordon,
Infiniti,
Frankie Knuckles,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.