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 India and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marine Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxy Music,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Excepter,
Average White Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scan 7,
Rod Modell,
Hashim,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
David Bowie,
The Velvet Underground,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy Collins,
Crash Course in Science,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed,
The Mojo Men,
Bill Near,
Funky Four + One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Style,
Gabor Szabo,
Man Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Buzzcocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radio Birdman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Warsaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Count Five,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
Wally Richardson,
Popol Vuh,
Jacques Brel,
Sparks,
Darondo,
Eli Mardock,
Idris Muhammad,
Erasure,
Flipper,
The Remains,
Sexual Harrassment,
Unrelated Segments,
Neil Young,
Marmalade,
Jeff Lynne,
Brick,
Black Moon,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.