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 Botswana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 New Order to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
The Mummies,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Moody Blues,
One Last Wish,
The Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Schoolly D,
The Cure,
Deepchord,
Essential Logic,
Quadrant,
Gerry Rafferty,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soul Sonic Force,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Hood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacob Miller,
Marmalade,
The Names,
The Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
U.S. Maple,
Ituana,
Stockholm Monsters,
ABBA,
Silicon Teens,
Interpol,
Fat Boys,
The Toasters,
Joey Negro,
Motorama,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Heaven 17,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Index,
Mars,
Lower 48,
Urselle,
The Standells,
Colin Newman,
X-102,
Aloha Tigers,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Byrd,
Erasure,
Althea and Donna,
Fad Gadget,
Flamin' Groovies,
JFA,
Rekid,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Depeche Mode,
Eden Ahbez,
Average White Band,
Terry Callier,
Malaria!,
Au Pairs,
Roxy Music,
Dark Day,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.