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 Bhutan and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Moby Grape to the techno 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Ronan,
Livin' Joy,
Piero Umiliani,
The Motions,
Tomorrow,
Radio Birdman,
Franke,
Cecil Taylor,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hardrive,
Marine Girls,
T. Rex,
Minnie Riperton,
Slick Rick,
the Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
These Immortal Souls,
Model 500,
Surgeon,
Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Saccharine Trust,
Popol Vuh,
Sixth Finger,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Liliput,
PIL,
Scan 7,
Pussy Galore,
Nico,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
The Raincoats,
Bob Dylan,
FM Einheit,
Organ,
EPMD,
David McCallum,
Traffic Nightmare,
Henry Cow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
The Angels of Light,
Mandrill,
Freddie Wadling,
Kayak,
Donald Byrd,
Scientists,
New Order,
Reagan Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Khruangbin,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.