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 Korea North and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 United States of America to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Parry Music,
Supertramp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Negative Approach,
Anakelly,
Scratch Acid,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fuzztones,
Prince Buster,
Metal Thangz,
Buzzcocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slave,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sällskapet,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sugar Minott,
Groovy Waters,
Fugazi,
Duran Duran,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Bananas,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Charles Mingus,
Erasure,
Tubeway Army,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Theoretical Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Josef K,
Fela Kuti,
KRS-One,
Joe Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Outsiders,
Althea and Donna,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Techniques,
Oneida,
Derrick Morgan,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Dave Clark Five,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hot Snakes,
Bill Wells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Silicon Teens,
Monolake,
Kevin Saunderson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bauhaus,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.