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 China and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
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 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Near,
Tears for Fears,
Chrome,
Piero Umiliani,
Ituana,
Minny Pops,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doobie Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marc Almond,
Accadde A,
Kayak,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacob Miller,
Hoover,
Nick Fraelich,
John Coltrane,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skaos,
Howard Jones,
Lou Christie,
Ralphi Rosario,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Outsiders,
Ronnie Foster,
New York Dolls,
Oneida,
New Order,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mantronix,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Searchers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Liliput,
Deepchord,
Parry Music,
Siglo XX,
Japan,
The Moody Blues,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fortunes,
Dead Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Clear Light,
The Zeros,
Unwound,
Altered Images,
Hot Snakes,
Gichy Dan,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.