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 France and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Brass Construction to the grunge 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slave,
Dennis Brown,
Chris Corsano,
John Coltrane,
Babytalk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wasted Youth,
Quando Quango,
Anthony Braxton,
Frankie Knuckles,
JFA,
Sarah Menescal,
Reuben Wilson,
Crooked Eye,
Sam Rivers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moody Blues,
John Holt,
The Gladiators,
DJ Style,
Stetsasonic,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bluetip,
Ronnie Foster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Simply Red,
Rotary Connection,
The Evens,
Saccharine Trust,
Unwound,
Ludus,
The Neon Judgement,
Lee Hazlewood,
Magma,
Flipper,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ken Boothe,
Severed Heads,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quadrant,
The Dave Clark Five,
Darondo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fluxion,
Pylon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bill Near,
June of 44,
The Motions,
Pantaleimon,
Fugazi,
La Düsseldorf,
Underground Resistance,
New York Dolls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
DNA,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.