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 East Timor and from Madrid.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grauzone to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gories,
The Residents,
Barbara Tucker,
Neil Young,
Yaz,
kango's stein massive,
K-Klass,
The J.B.'s,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Toasters,
Camberwell Now,
Lalann,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Technova,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Neon Judgement,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Warren Ellis,
June of 44,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The United States of America,
Suburban Knight,
The Real Kids,
Radio Birdman,
The Pop Group,
Thompson Twins,
Yellowson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Flag,
Model 500,
Mandrill,
Moebius,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultravox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spoonie Gee,
Mr. Review,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
The Happenings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jeff Lynne,
Stetsasonic,
Groovy Waters,
Con Funk Shun,
The Selecter,
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
the Bar-Kays,
Josef K,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Birthday Party,
Joe Finger,
Pantaleimon,
Spandau Ballet,
Freddie Wadling,
Archie Shepp,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Skatalites,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.