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 Croatia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Mantronix,
U.S. Maple,
One Last Wish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Aloha Tigers,
Index,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Cell,
The Sound,
Malaria!,
Ituana,
The Litter,
The Tremeloes,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eve St. Jones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Selecter,
Lalann,
The Young Rascals,
Bob Dylan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hardrive,
Lakeside,
Ken Boothe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dead Boys,
Cybotron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Panda Bear,
the Bar-Kays,
Wire,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cowsills,
Jimmy McGriff,
Franke,
Vainqueur,
New Age Steppers,
Crispy Ambulance,
MDC,
Sight & Sound,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
The Slackers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rekid,
Rapeman,
Gregory Isaacs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Residents,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
Thompson Twins,
Yellowson,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.