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 Turkmenistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sister Nancy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Livin' Joy,
Charles Mingus,
The Skatalites,
Gang of Four,
Iggy Pop,
Chris & Cosey,
D'Angelo,
Jawbox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Pretty Things,
Graham Central Station,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deepchord,
Motorama,
The Gladiators,
The Wake,
Whodini,
Rites of Spring,
Derrick Morgan,
Skaos,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dark Day,
Cameo,
U.S. Maple,
Audionom,
Aural Exciters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The United States of America,
Sandy B,
Harmonia,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Divine Comedy,
The Kinks,
Porter Ricks,
China Crisis,
Mad Mike,
Blake Baxter,
Blossom Toes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Simply Red,
Tommy Roe,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
The Tremeloes,
Ludus,
Ice-T,
Crash Course in Science,
Sixth Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
Grauzone,
Royal Trux,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.