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 Estonia and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 David Bowie 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 Whodini 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood 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?
Suburban Knight,
Parry Music,
Man Parrish,
Agitation Free,
David McCallum,
Marine Girls,
LL Cool J,
The Misunderstood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Little Man,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Velvet Underground,
Deakin,
Isaac Hayes,
DJ Style,
Black Flag,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Durutti Column,
Camberwell Now,
Godley & Creme,
Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
Ice-T,
Grauzone,
Black Sheep,
Khruangbin,
Organ,
Joy Division,
John Foxx,
Pussy Galore,
Matthew Halsall,
Wally Richardson,
Circle Jerks,
The Trojans,
Fluxion,
Eric Dolphy,
Dennis Brown,
Man Eating Sloth,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Hood,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Judy Mowatt,
Y Pants,
Barbara Tucker,
Mandrill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
OOIOO,
Todd Rundgren,
The United States of America,
Andrew Hill,
Albert Ayler,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis,
The Seeds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Theoretical Girls,
Vainqueur,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.