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 San Marino and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 48th St. Collective to the jazz 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Popol Vuh,
The Gories,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moby Grape,
Harmonia,
Magazine,
The Modern Lovers,
Henry Cow,
Agitation Free,
Supertramp,
Arab on Radar,
Lakeside,
The Walker Brothers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
Black Sheep,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bad Manners,
Kevin Saunderson,
Desert Stars,
Scott Walker,
The Searchers,
Scion,
Khruangbin,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
AZ,
Maurizio,
PIL,
Barbara Tucker,
Mr. Review,
Livin' Joy,
the Sonics,
John Cale,
Adolescents,
Minor Threat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kaleidoscope,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
The Remains,
Ronan,
Liliput,
Wally Richardson,
Zero Boys,
Neil Young,
Von Mondo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alphaville,
Buzzcocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
Bob Dylan,
Fear,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dennis Brown,
Black Bananas,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.