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 Guatemala and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron 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 Mission of Burma to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Dead C,
Wings,
Cluster,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Khruangbin,
X-Ray Spex,
Dark Day,
Juan Atkins,
Pantytec,
Ponytail,
Throbbing Gristle,
Charles Mingus,
Severed Heads,
Chris & Cosey,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
Jawbox,
Buzzcocks,
Ultravox,
Reuben Wilson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Maurizio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arcadia,
Funkadelic,
DJ Sneak,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Black Dice,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amon Düül,
The Victims,
Joe Smooth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Howard Jones,
Skarface,
Joy Division,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nils Olav,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Suicide,
Morten Harket,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
Dual Sessions,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.