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 Dominican Republic and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
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 Johnny Clarke to the electroclash 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Nick Fraelich,
The Index,
The Monks,
ABC,
Rotary Connection,
The Mojo Men,
Wasted Youth,
Ice-T,
The Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
The Birthday Party,
The Blackbyrds,
Little Man,
Easy Going,
Can,
The Dirtbombs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Pus,
Scratch Acid,
Matthew Halsall,
a-ha,
Cal Tjader,
Minutemen,
The Buckinghams,
Reagan Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Bar-Kays,
Intrusion,
The Walker Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jacques Brel,
ABBA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Motorama,
Piero Umiliani,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swell Maps,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donald Byrd,
Cymande,
Supertramp,
Thee Headcoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fortunes,
Skriet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Livin' Joy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
The Selecter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aloha Tigers,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.