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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Electric Prunes to the crunk 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Mission of Burma,
June Days,
Procol Harum,
Ultra Naté,
Hot Snakes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Iggy Pop,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
The Dead C,
Quadrant,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joy Division,
The Young Rascals,
The Sound,
Japan,
Black Bananas,
Funky Four + One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neu!,
the Human League,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Fugazi,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
The Music Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
Pylon,
Pagans,
Grey Daturas,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marmalade,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Colin Newman,
The J.B.'s,
Maurizio,
Swans,
The Selecter,
Panda Bear,
Mr. Review,
The Five Americans,
The Litter,
Yaz,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crooked Eye,
Gichy Dan,
The Gories,
Oblivians,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.