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 Barbados and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 Piero Umiliani to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
Suicide,
Trumans Water,
The Standells,
X-Ray Spex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dead C,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fela Kuti,
The Five Americans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kayak,
The Gladiators,
Organ,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Dolphy,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Davy DMX,
Los Fastidios,
Livin' Joy,
Jandek,
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
Michelle Simonal,
Ronnie Foster,
B.T. Express,
Mission of Burma,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Qualms,
Piero Umiliani,
Nils Olav,
Andrew Hill,
Mark Hollis,
The Smiths,
Nas,
Roxy Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Vainqueur,
Al Stewart,
Marvin Gaye,
Fad Gadget,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soul II Soul,
Warren Ellis,
World's Most,
The Invisible,
The Monks,
Joyce Sims,
Reagan Youth,
Camouflage,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.