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 Congo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Basic Channel,
Hoover,
Rosa Yemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Brick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ten City,
Maurizio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sister Nancy,
MC5,
Das Ding,
Pussy Galore,
Tears for Fears,
Glenn Branca,
8 Eyed Spy,
The United States of America,
Fugazi,
Mandrill,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eli Mardock,
Wire,
Faraquet,
Warsaw,
Dawn Penn,
Sight & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
Alphaville,
Goldenarms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bob Dylan,
The Index,
Q and Not U,
The Offenders,
Angry Samoans,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tres Demented,
Ronan,
Main Source,
Ken Boothe,
A Certain Ratio,
The Tremeloes,
Flipper,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Seeds,
F. McDonald,
CMW,
The Toasters,
Robert Wyatt,
cv313,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Altered Images,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.