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 Austria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
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 arpeggiator 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 F. McDonald to the funk 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Matthew Bourne,
Nas,
Lou Reed,
John Foxx,
Khruangbin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tubeway Army,
The Remains,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Music Machine,
T. Rex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
China Crisis,
the Swans,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
Eli Mardock,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy Collins,
The Smoke,
Judy Mowatt,
Magazine,
Hot Snakes,
The Durutti Column,
Fear,
Delta 5,
The Zeros,
Roxette,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Reagan Youth,
Masters at Work,
Electric Prunes,
ABC,
The Happenings,
The Trojans,
Janne Schatter,
Black Sheep,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oneida,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
Aloha Tigers,
Dual Sessions,
Sugar Minott,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bad Manners,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ludus,
Unwound,
The Cramps,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kurtis Blow,
48th St. Collective,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.