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 Switzerland and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kas Product to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pop Group,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cymande,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Junior Murvin,
Khruangbin,
The New Christs,
Heaven 17,
Pantytec,
cv313,
L. Decosne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smoke,
The Index,
The Invisible,
Banda Bassotti,
Crash Course in Science,
Angry Samoans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Wire,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roxette,
Barry Ungar,
Moby Grape,
Kerri Chandler,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Slits,
MDC,
The Five Americans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marmalade,
Das Ding,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric Copeland,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Move,
Basic Channel,
Shuggie Otis,
Sugar Minott,
Kool Moe Dee,
kango's stein massive,
Freddie Wadling,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
Sandy B,
Pole,
Marcia Griffiths,
The J.B.'s,
Chris Corsano,
Spoonie Gee,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.