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 Macedonia 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joyce Sims to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wire,
Fugazi,
Au Pairs,
The Sound,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Happenings,
Rod Modell,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Babytalk,
Yusef Lateef,
Archie Shepp,
R.M.O.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yazoo,
The Smoke,
The Star Department,
Bobby Hutcherson,
New York Dolls,
Ronan,
DNA,
Janne Schatter,
Mantronix,
Skriet,
JFA,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Copeland,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boz Scaggs,
The Doobie Brothers,
MDC,
Scrapy,
Danielle Patucci,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Black Dice,
Lungfish,
Can,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Scion,
Goldenarms,
The Techniques,
Jeru the Damaja,
E-Dancer,
Roger Hodgson,
Desert Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fortunes,
Angry Samoans,
The Offenders,
Technova,
Alice Coltrane,
Metal Thangz,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.