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 New Zealand and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fad Gadget to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Flipper,
The Cowsills,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gladiators,
Wings,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ituana,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Bar-Kays,
Lightning Bolt,
Kayak,
Sam Rivers,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Vainqueur,
The Dirtbombs,
Television Personalities,
Moss Icon,
Thee Headcoats,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Cymande,
Joey Negro,
Jerry's Kids,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hoover,
Skaos,
Basic Channel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Delon & Dalcan,
Zero Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Gichy Dan,
Absolute Body Control,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Red Krayola,
Maleditus Sound,
Quantec,
The Velvet Underground,
Negative Approach,
Minny Pops,
The Mojo Men,
The Toasters,
The Invisible,
Eric Dolphy,
Au Pairs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Echospace,
Visage,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.