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 Ethiopia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Con Funk Shun to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
Pole,
Neil Young,
Radio Birdman,
Kurtis Blow,
Whodini,
Magma,
Chris & Cosey,
Josef K,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
Eurythmics,
Judy Mowatt,
Pantaleimon,
The Fugs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gladiators,
Roxy Music,
Newcleus,
Barrington Levy,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Doors,
Stereo Dub,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blancmange,
The Moody Blues,
Second Layer,
Groovy Waters,
Scan 7,
Al Stewart,
Vladislav Delay,
June of 44,
Scion,
Piero Umiliani,
The Martian,
Q and Not U,
Ohio Players,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thee Headcoats,
Loose Ends,
Sonny Sharrock,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy Collins,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Move,
Bill Near,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.