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 Chad and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Edmonton and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Grass Roots to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Half Japanese,
Index,
DNA,
Trumans Water,
Gabor Szabo,
Bauhaus,
The Modern Lovers,
Niagra,
Scion,
Don Cherry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lower 48,
Panda Bear,
The Red Krayola,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oblivians,
JFA,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
Terrestrial Tones,
Desert Stars,
Crime,
Dorothy Ashby,
Godley & Creme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Can,
Nick Fraelich,
the Bar-Kays,
Chris Corsano,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Yellowson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Real Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neu!,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Eating Sloth,
Khruangbin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spandau Ballet,
Tim Buckley,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Angels of Light,
The Moody Blues,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scrapy,
The Busters,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gap Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Green,
Scott Walker,
Skriet,
Barbara Tucker,
Harpers Bizarre,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Zapp,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.