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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lou Reed 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 kango's stein massive to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Starr,
Nils Olav,
Easy Going,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Amazonics,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Neu!,
The United States of America,
Lakeside,
Angry Samoans,
PIL,
Aural Exciters,
Lalann,
Bobby Byrd,
The Moleskins,
X-101,
Deakin,
Public Enemy,
Tres Demented,
Joe Smooth,
Metal Thangz,
The Techniques,
Sarah Menescal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Piero Umiliani,
Panda Bear,
X-Ray Spex,
Harry Pussy,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
The Busters,
These Immortal Souls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fat Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pretty Things,
Jawbox,
Duran Duran,
Agent Orange,
Grauzone,
Massinfluence,
The Cowsills,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Sneak,
Franke,
Roxy Music,
Godley & Creme,
Camouflage,
Isaac Hayes,
Lightning Bolt,
Supertramp,
James White and The Blacks,
Rotary Connection,
The Dead C,
The Fall,
Cheater Slicks,
Joensuu 1685,
Kerri Chandler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.