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 El Salvador and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jawbox,
R.M.O.,
10cc,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Steve Hackett,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Marvin Gaye,
Porter Ricks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dark Day,
June of 44,
Cecil Taylor,
cv313,
Pantaleimon,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Almond,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
Charles Mingus,
Little Man,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wally Richardson,
Flash Fearless,
Blancmange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nils Olav,
The Sonics,
The Gap Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roxy Music,
Albert Ayler,
Eurythmics,
Jandek,
Nik Kershaw,
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Motions,
Das Ding,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brothers Johnson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Second Layer,
Liliput,
Rod Modell,
Rapeman,
Susan Cadogan,
Simply Red,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gladiators,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blake Baxter,
Lightning Bolt,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.