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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Camouflage to the grunge 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Dead C,
The Happenings,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Christie,
X-Ray Spex,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Velvet Underground,
Swell Maps,
Subhumans,
Howard Jones,
Metal Thangz,
Unwound,
The Fire Engines,
The Blackbyrds,
Connie Case,
Jeff Lynne,
The Five Americans,
Rosa Yemen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Divine Comedy,
Khruangbin,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
Underground Resistance,
Fat Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
the Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Grass Roots,
Whodini,
The Busters,
Babytalk,
Fatback Band,
Derrick May,
Stereo Dub,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tommy Roe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Motorama,
H. Thieme,
The Toasters,
The Misunderstood,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Visage,
L. Decosne,
Susan Cadogan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.