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 Turkmenistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Eric Dolphy to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
a-ha,
Accadde A,
Talk Talk,
The Slackers,
The Kinks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scratch Acid,
The New Christs,
The Stooges,
The Barracudas,
Funky Four + One,
Hot Snakes,
The Red Krayola,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Cale,
Q and Not U,
The Pretty Things,
LL Cool J,
Tubeway Army,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Quando Quango,
the Normal,
Wolf Eyes,
Whodini,
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Juan Atkins,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Andrew Hill,
Joe Smooth,
Severed Heads,
PIL,
Black Pus,
Scrapy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Theoretical Girls,
Brass Construction,
Pulsallama,
John Coltrane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Model 500,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blake Baxter,
Gong,
Kayak,
The Martian,
Kurtis Blow,
Groovy Waters,
Nas,
Audionom,
Bush Tetras,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gories,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric Dolphy,
Inner City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Five Americans,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Görl,
Clear Light,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.