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 Cape Verde and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Crispian St. Peters to the funk 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Bush Tetras,
Masters at Work,
Aaron Thompson,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
Animal Collective,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Womack,
Eden Ahbez,
John Lydon,
Piero Umiliani,
Anakelly,
Lower 48,
Adolescents,
Rotary Connection,
Sight & Sound,
Junior Murvin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sparks,
Lindisfarne,
Oblivians,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
Cheater Slicks,
Fluxion,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Alice Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-Ray Spex,
cv313,
The Techniques,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Normal,
Zapp,
Loose Ends,
Moby Grape,
Funky Four + One,
The Moody Blues,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Metal Thangz,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eddi Front,
Swell Maps,
Barrington Levy,
Funkadelic,
Maurizio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jerry's Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Hood,
The Pop Group,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.