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 Czech Republic 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Reagan Youth to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
CMW,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Fatback Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
R.M.O.,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions,
Black Bananas,
The Trojans,
Harmonia,
Flipper,
Godley & Creme,
Schoolly D,
Sister Nancy,
Depeche Mode,
The Dead C,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q65,
Grauzone,
Gabor Szabo,
Pylon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marc Almond,
The Velvet Underground,
Symarip,
Blancmange,
The Angels of Light,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marcia Griffiths,
Surgeon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
China Crisis,
Skarface,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Excepter,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultra Naté,
Wally Richardson,
T. Rex,
The Residents,
Minnie Riperton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Sheep,
Bad Manners,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.