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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Sao Paulo and Seoul.
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 Crispian St. Peters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cymande,
Sam Rivers,
Thompson Twins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Youth Brigade,
A Certain Ratio,
Massinfluence,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Skarface,
Ultravox,
Model 500,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Lungfish,
The Leaves,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Wyatt,
Bronski Beat,
Lower 48,
Gabor Szabo,
Silicon Teens,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Basic Channel,
Nirvana,
Avey Tare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
Khruangbin,
Sonic Youth,
L. Decosne,
Slave,
The Young Rascals,
Black Bananas,
X-101,
Lou Christie,
the Human League,
Essential Logic,
Ponytail,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nick Fraelich,
Fluxion,
New York Dolls,
Faraquet,
The Wake,
Minnie Riperton,
The Names,
Eric Dolphy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Television Personalities,
The Slits,
The Victims,
The New Christs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Black Dice,
Hoover,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.