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 Jordan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe 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 Sugar Minott to the jazz 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Kas Product,
Laurel Aitken,
Drexciya,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang On A Can,
the Normal,
Whodini,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
The Blackbyrds,
Brass Construction,
The American Breed,
The United States of America,
Lucky Dragons,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül,
KRS-One,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cybotron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ohio Players,
Rufus Thomas,
Bauhaus,
Rakim,
Neil Young,
Barry Ungar,
Wire,
Patti Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Silicon Teens,
Technova,
David Axelrod,
X-101,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aural Exciters,
Khruangbin,
Unwound,
Lungfish,
Tommy Roe,
Stereo Dub,
Duran Duran,
Susan Cadogan,
ABC,
Ronnie Foster,
China Crisis,
Magma,
CMW,
Ponytail,
Sex Pistols,
This Heat,
La Düsseldorf,
Janne Schatter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masters at Work,
Quando Quango,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Aloha Tigers,
World's Most,
Young Marble Giants,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.