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 Burundi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the dance 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Guru Guru,
Chris Corsano,
Duran Duran,
Kas Product,
the Swans,
Goldenarms,
Audionom,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nirvana,
Khruangbin,
AZ,
L. Decosne,
Jerry's Kids,
Grauzone,
Tres Demented,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Womack,
Radio Birdman,
Slick Rick,
Andrew Hill,
JFA,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Angels of Light,
The Toasters,
Depeche Mode,
Gerry Rafferty,
Connie Case,
Lou Christie,
Donald Byrd,
Swans,
Minnie Riperton,
Marmalade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed,
David McCallum,
Derrick Morgan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ultra Naté,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Association,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jandek,
Joey Negro,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soft Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
The Zeros,
Motorama,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.