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 Bahrain and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Siglo XX to the punk 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
World's Most,
Average White Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Detroit Cobras,
Animal Collective,
Tres Demented,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang of Four,
Warren Ellis,
Amon Düül II,
H. Thieme,
La Düsseldorf,
Andrew Hill,
Angry Samoans,
Camouflage,
Magazine,
Basic Channel,
The Fuzztones,
June of 44,
Infiniti,
Lalann,
Stetsasonic,
Faust,
Maurizio,
Icehouse,
The Slackers,
Chris & Cosey,
The Divine Comedy,
Aaron Thompson,
Ultravox,
Fluxion,
Crime,
The Neon Judgement,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Black Dice,
Goldenarms,
Talk Talk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Techniques,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Whodini,
DNA,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Knickerbockers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Vladislav Delay,
Bush Tetras,
Sparks,
Joy Division,
Index,
Television,
Tim Buckley,
AZ,
Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minnie Riperton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fortunes,
Kayak,
The Kinks,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.