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 Liechtenstein and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer 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 Absolute Body Control to the jazz 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Slick Rick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Section 25,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Blues Magoos,
Zapp,
This Heat,
LL Cool J,
The Red Krayola,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
Dave Gahan,
World's Most,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Raincoats,
Clear Light,
Thee Headcoats,
Minutemen,
Royal Trux,
Severed Heads,
The Techniques,
June Days,
The Buckinghams,
Underground Resistance,
Darondo,
Icehouse,
The Mummies,
Dead Boys,
Sam Rivers,
Leonard Cohen,
Little Man,
The Busters,
Circle Jerks,
Soulsonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Sherman,
The Divine Comedy,
Mad Mike,
Panda Bear,
The Fall,
Pierre Henry,
The Star Department,
Siglo XX,
Drive Like Jehu,
T.S.O.L.,
Popol Vuh,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash,
Chris Corsano,
Fela Kuti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Motions,
Gil Scott Heron,
The New Christs,
Deadbeat,
New Age Steppers,
The Remains,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.