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 Marshall Islands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the punk 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Crash Course in Science,
Henry Cow,
The Misunderstood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wasted Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Tubeway Army,
Altered Images,
Janne Schatter,
Bush Tetras,
Scratch Acid,
Section 25,
Sun City Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Stetsasonic,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
Mars,
Arthur Verocai,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zapp,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Albert Ayler,
Funkadelic,
Crooked Eye,
Cal Tjader,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tommy Roe,
Visage,
Scan 7,
Young Marble Giants,
Iggy Pop,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
Todd Terry,
ABC,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cluster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Soft Cell,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Subhumans,
Shoche,
Ultravox,
Little Man,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-102,
The Doors,
Joey Negro,
Rotary Connection,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Copeland,
The Moleskins,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.