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 Pakistan and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cosmic Jokers to the rap 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
The Velvet Underground,
KRS-One,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
Connie Case,
Boz Scaggs,
Wolf Eyes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dark Day,
Tres Demented,
Lou Christie,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pagans,
The Saints,
Kaleidoscope,
The Remains,
Livin' Joy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Von Mondo,
Arab on Radar,
Black Sheep,
The Fuzztones,
FM Einheit,
the Swans,
Rekid,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
D'Angelo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry's Kids,
Nils Olav,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Godley & Creme,
Sonic Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grey Daturas,
Fat Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ice-T,
Parry Music,
Harmonia,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Terry Callier,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sixth Finger,
Panda Bear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Görl,
Toni Rubio,
The Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
The Pretty Things,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Iggy Pop,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.