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 Bhutan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Gang Green,
The Cure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Last Poets,
Marine Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
The Evens,
Skriet,
Moby Grape,
Godley & Creme,
The Standells,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DNA,
kango's stein massive,
Eli Mardock,
Leonard Cohen,
Pharoah Sanders,
Panda Bear,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
Wally Richardson,
Sandy B,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yaz,
Sparks,
Mars,
Chrome,
Audionom,
F. McDonald,
Sun City Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
The Buckinghams,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lindisfarne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Man Parrish,
Ossler,
PIL,
Anthony Braxton,
Subhumans,
The Fortunes,
The Stooges,
Junior Murvin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barry Ungar,
The Invisible,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Style,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ronan,
Oblivians,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Judy Mowatt,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.