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 Albania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arthur Verocai to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
R.M.O.,
Severed Heads,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Lalann,
The Wake,
Chrome,
Rakim,
Royal Trux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heaven 17,
Circle Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
The American Breed,
F. McDonald,
Black Sheep,
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cal Tjader,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sonics,
Goldenarms,
The Motions,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Sound Behaviour,
Sonny Sharrock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sixth Finger,
KRS-One,
La Düsseldorf,
Groovy Waters,
Monks,
Magazine,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
Sister Nancy,
Joyce Sims,
The Barracudas,
Excepter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yaz,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Tremeloes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jeru the Damaja,
Smog,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fire Engines,
Minny Pops,
Pere Ubu,
Barry Ungar,
Absolute Body Control,
The Techniques,
Panda Bear,
Mantronix,
Pantytec,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.