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 Marshall Islands and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the grime 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Gang of Four,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Kinks,
The Beau Brummels,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Q65,
Ronnie Foster,
Godley & Creme,
Deepchord,
Fela Kuti,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Camouflage,
Black Moon,
The Gap Band,
Charles Mingus,
Leonard Cohen,
Duran Duran,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
Depeche Mode,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scrapy,
The Divine Comedy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Davy DMX,
Deakin,
Nirvana,
Pierre Henry,
Albert Ayler,
Second Layer,
Glenn Branca,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Association,
The Last Poets,
Nils Olav,
Joensuu 1685,
Stiv Bators,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash,
Max Romeo,
Neil Young,
Fluxion,
Patti Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Average White Band,
Man Parrish,
June Days,
Sonic Youth,
Quadrant,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Pop Group,
Skarface,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.