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 India and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar 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 Lower 48 to the crunk 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
Soft Machine,
Shoche,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeru the Damaja,
Half Japanese,
Nico,
The Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Adolescents,
Silicon Teens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Procol Harum,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roxette,
Supertramp,
Hot Snakes,
Young Marble Giants,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Franke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Funky Four + One,
ABBA,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James White and The Blacks,
Dead Boys,
Josef K,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grey Daturas,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Eve St. Jones,
Roxy Music,
Amon Düül,
Drive Like Jehu,
Albert Ayler,
Anthony Braxton,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Metal Thangz,
Skriet,
Quantec,
Moss Icon,
Symarip,
The J.B.'s,
Gabor Szabo,
The Zeros,
Boz Scaggs,
Lucky Dragons,
Barrington Levy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.