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 Gambia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the sitar 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 Oneida to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Joensuu 1685,
The Music Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Laurel Aitken,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pussy Galore,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gabor Szabo,
Al Stewart,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Matthew Halsall,
Sex Pistols,
The Seeds,
Reuben Wilson,
U.S. Maple,
the Association,
Flash Fearless,
Todd Terry,
The Mummies,
Young Marble Giants,
Oneida,
The Monks,
Cluster,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Velvet Underground,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Charles Mingus,
Camouflage,
Agent Orange,
Cybotron,
Panda Bear,
Sam Rivers,
Susan Cadogan,
Deadbeat,
The Remains,
Ituana,
kango's stein massive,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Christie,
The Flesh Eaters,
Newcleus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cymande,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
Audionom,
Excepter,
Whodini,
Brand Nubian,
Soul Sonic Force,
David Axelrod,
F. McDonald,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
ABBA,
ABC,
Tommy Roe,
Popol Vuh,
Sällskapet,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.