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 Honduras and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Aloha Tigers to the punk 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Jacques Brel,
Skaos,
Flipper,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minutemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cure,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barrington Levy,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultra Naté,
Funky Four + One,
Maurizio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Frankie Knuckles,
Second Layer,
The Litter,
Yusef Lateef,
Eli Mardock,
Wolf Eyes,
Half Japanese,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
Hasil Adkins,
Dark Day,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Iggy Pop,
The Red Krayola,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Star Department,
Peter & Gordon,
Los Fastidios,
Stetsasonic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crash Course in Science,
Arthur Verocai,
Lower 48,
PIL,
Morten Harket,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stereo Dub,
Mars,
Magma,
Y Pants,
Cameo,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
Man Eating Sloth,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
Zapp,
The Gap Band,
Funkadelic,
Alphaville,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.