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 Bulgaria and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mo-Dettes to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Albert Ayler,
Spandau Ballet,
The Tremeloes,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
R.M.O.,
Vladislav Delay,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DNA,
Parry Music,
The Fortunes,
Jawbox,
H. Thieme,
Clear Light,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
ABBA,
Zero Boys,
Nils Olav,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roxy Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nation of Ulysses,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Royal Trux,
Isaac Hayes,
Tres Demented,
Roger Hodgson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harmonia,
Ohio Players,
Sonic Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crooked Eye,
Oblivians,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Blues Magoos,
Davy DMX,
Khruangbin,
Cluster,
Siglo XX,
Pantaleimon,
Rod Modell,
Flash Fearless,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
The Leaves,
Country Teasers,
The Smoke,
Amazonics,
Bang On A Can,
Average White Band,
Ken Boothe,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
The Divine Comedy,
Technova,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.