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 Ireland and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Minutemen to the electroclash 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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Davy DMX,
Dawn Penn,
Tom Boy,
Dead Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ronan,
Simply Red,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blancmange,
AZ,
Groovy Waters,
Donny Hathaway,
The Toasters,
Peter and Kerry,
The Doors,
Marine Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kas Product,
Wings,
Little Man,
Hardrive,
Quantec,
Iggy Pop,
Flipper,
The Black Dice,
The Pretty Things,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Raincoats,
Sight & Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Charles Mingus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
The Durutti Column,
Crime,
Tears for Fears,
Cal Tjader,
Soulsonic Force,
Scott Walker,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Moon,
Amon Düül II,
Howard Jones,
Bluetip,
Ice-T,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Christie,
Absolute Body Control,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barry Ungar,
Joe Finger,
Soft Machine,
Gang Green,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.