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 Syria and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grey Daturas to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
Arcadia,
Nils Olav,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joe Smooth,
Malaria!,
Nico,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Piero Umiliani,
Faraquet,
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Charles Mingus,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ten City,
Motorama,
The Velvet Underground,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Scion,
Gil Scott Heron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Green,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Drexciya,
Wire,
Sister Nancy,
David Axelrod,
Black Pus,
Tres Demented,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
Amon Düül,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
U.S. Maple,
Television,
Todd Terry,
Guru Guru,
The Gladiators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Goldenarms,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
LL Cool J,
Reuben Wilson,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arab on Radar,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.