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 Burkina and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cal Tjader to the crunk 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ice-T,
Harmonia,
The Barracudas,
Smog,
Pharoah Sanders,
World's Most,
Lalann,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Henry Cow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slackers,
Junior Murvin,
Rufus Thomas,
Silicon Teens,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tubeway Army,
Slick Rick,
Gang Gang Dance,
New York Dolls,
Unrelated Segments,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wire,
The Associates,
Brothers Johnson,
The Offenders,
The Blackbyrds,
New Order,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cheater Slicks,
Prince Buster,
The Skatalites,
Bad Manners,
The Gladiators,
Tears for Fears,
Television,
The Slits,
Toni Rubio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donny Hathaway,
Don Cherry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Darondo,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare,
Girls At Our Best!,
Groovy Waters,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mojo Men,
Von Mondo,
Marc Almond,
Index,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.