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 Mauritania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
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 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 The Detroit Cobras to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Livin' Joy,
Eurythmics,
Fela Kuti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gladiators,
CMW,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Public Enemy,
DNA,
Ten City,
Shoche,
Joy Division,
Urselle,
Pole,
Pierre Henry,
Yaz,
David Bowie,
Smog,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Womack,
Sun City Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
John Holt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Angels of Light,
The Young Rascals,
Lee Hazlewood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blossom Toes,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moss Icon,
Q and Not U,
The Smiths,
Sarah Menescal,
Wasted Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Qualms,
cv313,
Minny Pops,
Joyce Sims,
Kayak,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dead Boys,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
James White and The Blacks,
The Walker Brothers,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Radio Birdman,
Fugazi,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.