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 Kyrgyzstan and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
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 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 Donald Fagen 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 Infiniti to the funk 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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Quantec,
Byron Stingily,
Flipper,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Model 500,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
The Moleskins,
Skaos,
Thompson Twins,
Kool Moe Dee,
Warren Ellis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MDC,
John Holt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ituana,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mars,
Dawn Penn,
Black Sheep,
Rod Modell,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Copeland,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
R.M.O.,
The Last Poets,
F. McDonald,
Malaria!,
Gabor Szabo,
Barrington Levy,
Average White Band,
Minor Threat,
Smog,
Gerry Rafferty,
48th St. Collective,
Zero Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Tremeloes,
Soul II Soul,
Jawbox,
Amazonics,
The Associates,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Funkadelic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nik Kershaw,
JFA,
Bizarre Inc.,
DJ Style,
Joe Finger,
Matthew Bourne,
Arab on Radar,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.