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 Tuvalu and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
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 marimba 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 The Knickerbockers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lower 48,
the Fania All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Unwound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echospace,
The Fall,
Shuggie Otis,
The Stooges,
The Sonics,
Maleditus Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy Collins,
Subhumans,
Kenny Larkin,
Joy Division,
Quantec,
Camouflage,
Groovy Waters,
Au Pairs,
The Tremeloes,
The Offenders,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
The Red Krayola,
The Fugs,
Eve St. Jones,
Graham Central Station,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fortunes,
Agent Orange,
Reagan Youth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Metal Thangz,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
DJ Sneak,
Bluetip,
a-ha,
Funky Four + One,
K-Klass,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
Magma,
the Human League,
Godley & Creme,
Crime,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Technova,
The Mummies,
Boz Scaggs,
Porter Ricks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arthur Verocai,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Star Department,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.