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 Laos and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Sarah Menescal,
Symarip,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vainqueur,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
Nirvana,
Theoretical Girls,
Underground Resistance,
Skarface,
Television,
New Age Steppers,
Pagans,
Main Source,
Joy Division,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bad Manners,
Cymande,
Yaz,
Althea and Donna,
The Dave Clark Five,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Spoonie Gee,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Golliwogs,
Deadbeat,
Reuben Wilson,
Moby Grape,
Liliput,
Jeru the Damaja,
Donald Byrd,
Faraquet,
cv313,
Stetsasonic,
The Birthday Party,
Carl Craig,
The Misunderstood,
Popol Vuh,
AZ,
Circle Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Joensuu 1685,
Crooked Eye,
Trumans Water,
X-Ray Spex,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Index,
Kas Product,
UT,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
Grauzone,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
In Retrospect,
Derrick May,
Q65,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.