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 Gambia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Toni Rubio,
Kayak,
Kevin Saunderson,
Don Cherry,
Pantaleimon,
The Mummies,
Reagan Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Magazine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Toasters,
Crooked Eye,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Thompson Twins,
Scion,
Amazonics,
The Monochrome Set,
LL Cool J,
The Dead C,
K-Klass,
Soft Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Davy DMX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust,
Supertramp,
Quantec,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Heaven 17,
Delon & Dalcan,
PIL,
John Lydon,
Spoonie Gee,
Average White Band,
David Axelrod,
Index,
Mr. Review,
Jesper Dahlback,
Charles Mingus,
Marcia Griffiths,
New Order,
Jeff Lynne,
Popol Vuh,
The Remains,
Aswad,
The Residents,
New York Dolls,
The Names,
Rakim,
Nas,
Tres Demented,
The Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Animal Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Offenders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yusef Lateef,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.