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 Palau and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
the Bar-Kays,
Smog,
Ultravox,
Eddi Front,
Khruangbin,
The Monochrome Set,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun Ra,
Minor Threat,
Roxy Music,
The Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
Ohio Players,
Gong,
Tim Buckley,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül II,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Royal Trux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
Kayak,
Absolute Body Control,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Busters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nick Fraelich,
Pulsallama,
Symarip,
Bootsy Collins,
LL Cool J,
Gang Green,
Frankie Knuckles,
UT,
The Misunderstood,
Wolf Eyes,
Oblivians,
Moss Icon,
Joensuu 1685,
Excepter,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
Gichy Dan,
The Slits,
cv313,
Funkadelic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cymande,
Blake Baxter,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.