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 Moldova and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer 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 Pantaleimon to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 dance 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Banda Bassotti,
Ice-T,
Flipper,
Faraquet,
The Busters,
Tommy Roe,
Sparks,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Royal Trux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Human League,
The Cramps,
Laurel Aitken,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül,
Peter & Gordon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Görl,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
48th St. Collective,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Hood,
Skaos,
Minutemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rites of Spring,
Iggy Pop,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scratch Acid,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gong,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mo-Dettes,
Smog,
Lakeside,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DJ Style,
Kayak,
Brothers Johnson,
Robert Wyatt,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
The Monks,
Moss Icon,
Eric Copeland,
Malaria!,
Angry Samoans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Juan Atkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lalann,
Loose Ends,
Excepter,
Yusef Lateef,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Freddie Wadling,
Howard Jones,
Y Pants,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.