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 Mexico and from New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rap 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Nick Fraelich,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mission of Burma,
Marmalade,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare,
Guru Guru,
Eli Mardock,
Icehouse,
John Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tropical Tobacco,
Simply Red,
The American Breed,
Brand Nubian,
The Cowsills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roy Ayers,
The Beau Brummels,
Kenny Larkin,
Suicide,
The Golliwogs,
Howard Jones,
Albert Ayler,
Wings,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Pantytec,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lightning Bolt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lower 48,
Bobby Womack,
Robert Görl,
The Remains,
X-102,
The Smiths,
Absolute Body Control,
the Bar-Kays,
Michelle Simonal,
Aural Exciters,
PIL,
Gabor Szabo,
Television,
Alphaville,
Vladislav Delay,
DNA,
Idris Muhammad,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tres Demented,
Soul II Soul,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.