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 Slovakia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Main Source to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Red Krayola,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chris Corsano,
The American Breed,
Eurythmics,
Nick Fraelich,
Albert Ayler,
the Swans,
Ossler,
Bobby Byrd,
The Grass Roots,
Crispy Ambulance,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mummies,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantaleimon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Thompson Twins,
Sarah Menescal,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Don Cherry,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Ludus,
UT,
Schoolly D,
The Residents,
Radio Birdman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Easy Going,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Chrome,
D'Angelo,
Circle Jerks,
New Order,
Rufus Thomas,
Mandrill,
the Association,
James White and The Blacks,
The Victims,
Althea and Donna,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monolake,
Harry Pussy,
Parry Music,
48th St. Collective,
The J.B.'s,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker,
Tomorrow,
Niagra,
Alison Limerick,
Sight & Sound,
John Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.