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 Benin and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Robert Palmer 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 These Immortal Souls to the crunk 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Frankie Knuckles,
Circle Jerks,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nils Olav,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cure,
The Move,
Tubeway Army,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Happenings,
Animal Collective,
Johnny Osbourne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Drexciya,
Babytalk,
Alison Limerick,
Sound Behaviour,
Donny Hathaway,
Jacob Miller,
June of 44,
Pole,
OOIOO,
The New Christs,
Pylon,
Fat Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moody Blues,
Monolake,
Malaria!,
The Cowsills,
T. Rex,
The Offenders,
Kurtis Blow,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Schoolly D,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Quando Quango,
Vainqueur,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
Shuggie Otis,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Selecter,
Roy Ayers,
Ronan,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
Marc Almond,
Arthur Verocai,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.