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 Serbia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Erasure to the dance 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Sandy B,
Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agent Orange,
The Sonics,
The Durutti Column,
Massinfluence,
The Last Poets,
Inner City,
Juan Atkins,
Moby Grape,
Al Stewart,
Joe Smooth,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
The Seeds,
Accadde A,
Wings,
Section 25,
Trumans Water,
Slick Rick,
Glenn Branca,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moody Blues,
The Standells,
The Shadows of Knight,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Y Pants,
Lungfish,
Stiv Bators,
Sarah Menescal,
New Order,
Mr. Review,
Television,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
Shuggie Otis,
Nils Olav,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Knickerbockers,
The Buckinghams,
Lightning Bolt,
Ice-T,
Freddie Wadling,
Lou Reed,
the Bar-Kays,
Drexciya,
Brand Nubian,
The Saints,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fela Kuti,
The Modern Lovers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Sherman,
Pussy Galore,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Selecter,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.