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 Thailand 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Robert Palmer 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the punk 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter & Gordon,
Panda Bear,
Con Funk Shun,
Blake Baxter,
The Names,
Outsiders,
The Wake,
Mandrill,
Faust,
Qualms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Youth Brigade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Masters at Work,
Delta 5,
Scratch Acid,
Livin' Joy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Circle Jerks,
Jerry's Kids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Goldenarms,
Essential Logic,
The Golliwogs,
Fugazi,
David Bowie,
Lebanon Hanover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Jeff Mills,
Ultimate Spinach,
JFA,
kango's stein massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neu!,
T. Rex,
A Certain Ratio,
Swell Maps,
Sound Behaviour,
John Foxx,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Starr,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Danielle Patucci,
New Age Steppers,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Angry Samoans,
Agent Orange,
Bad Manners,
Siglo XX,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.