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 Laos and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Model 500 to the techno 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Wells,
Rod Modell,
Quadrant,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
R.M.O.,
Shoche,
Popol Vuh,
The Zeros,
Drexciya,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sonic Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sound Behaviour,
Cabaret Voltaire,
KRS-One,
Nils Olav,
The Monochrome Set,
Los Fastidios,
the Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Icehouse,
Charles Mingus,
Eden Ahbez,
Cybotron,
Traffic Nightmare,
James White and The Blacks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Buzzcocks,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Groovy Waters,
Intrusion,
Slick Rick,
Peter & Gordon,
Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins,
Barry Ungar,
The Count Five,
Ice-T,
Vladislav Delay,
Livin' Joy,
Arthur Verocai,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Stooges,
Amon Düül II,
Donald Byrd,
The Smiths,
Rekid,
Dave Gahan,
Gang of Four,
Black Moon,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.