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 Taiwan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Echospace,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
48th St. Collective,
Delta 5,
Rod Modell,
Country Teasers,
Janne Schatter,
Surgeon,
The Walker Brothers,
Fat Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Smoke,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Supertramp,
Blake Baxter,
Urselle,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sparks,
Susan Cadogan,
Sound Behaviour,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moss Icon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Modern Lovers,
The Happenings,
Carl Craig,
Isaac Hayes,
World's Most,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wire,
Masters at Work,
Josef K,
Bang On A Can,
Ten City,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers,
Tommy Roe,
Black Moon,
A Certain Ratio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dark Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Invisible,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Saccharine Trust,
Cheater Slicks,
Barry Ungar,
Cluster,
Rekid,
Mission of Burma,
The Raincoats,
Massinfluence,
Kerri Chandler,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.