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 Togo and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Alarm Clocks 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Ronnie Foster,
Oblivians,
Heaven 17,
Barry Ungar,
The Last Poets,
JFA,
Mr. Review,
The Blackbyrds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ten City,
The Toasters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Offenders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tubeway Army,
Khruangbin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Sound,
The Remains,
10cc,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
Hasil Adkins,
Jerry's Kids,
Yazoo,
The Trojans,
Magazine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Livin' Joy,
Rotary Connection,
The Five Americans,
Todd Rundgren,
James White and The Blacks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bill Wells,
Camberwell Now,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
The Associates,
Gang Starr,
Wings,
D'Angelo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Danielle Patucci,
Letta Mbulu,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fatback Band,
Minor Threat,
Young Marble Giants,
the Slits,
Sixth Finger,
Youth Brigade,
Basic Channel,
Minnie Riperton,
Radiohead,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.