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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Lou Reed 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 Spoonie Gee to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an organ 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 mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Sex Pistols,
The Invisible,
Cybotron,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
June of 44,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
K-Klass,
The Five Americans,
The Star Department,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Television Personalities,
Henry Cow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Saccharine Trust,
Chrome,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Blake Baxter,
Charles Mingus,
Monolake,
Gang Green,
Davy DMX,
Radio Birdman,
Yazoo,
Bill Wells,
John Holt,
Anakelly,
Qualms,
Jimmy McGriff,
Funkadelic,
Popol Vuh,
Sound Behaviour,
L. Decosne,
The Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Sneak,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe,
Cluster,
Suburban Knight,
Eric Copeland,
Monks,
The Remains,
Fatback Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minutemen,
Joensuu 1685,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eve St. Jones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
KRS-One,
Skaos,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Warren Ellis,
The Durutti Column,
The Kinks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pagans,
John Lydon,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.