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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blossom Toes to the funk 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Dark Day,
Don Cherry,
Alison Limerick,
Mr. Review,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Names,
Alton Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dead Boys,
New Order,
The Star Department,
Ultra Naté,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dave Clark Five,
Albert Ayler,
Harmonia,
Mantronix,
Siglo XX,
a-ha,
Drive Like Jehu,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Womack,
Rod Modell,
Rakim,
Country Teasers,
Marmalade,
Althea and Donna,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Whodini,
The Evens,
the Swans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Boogie Down Productions,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radiohead,
Funky Four + One,
Lou Reed,
Pylon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
Inner City,
Au Pairs,
Jawbox,
Lou Christie,
The Doors,
Arcadia,
Glambeats Corp.,
Excepter,
Crash Course in Science,
Ossler,
Sugar Minott,
The Buckinghams,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
The Stooges,
Amon Düül,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.