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 Lithuania and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
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 marimba 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 Minnie Riperton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Walker Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Sparks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joe Finger,
Bootsy Collins,
Yusef Lateef,
H. Thieme,
The Gories,
Jacques Brel,
Cymande,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Reuben Wilson,
Tim Buckley,
Soul II Soul,
Sight & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
Hashim,
Lyres,
Oneida,
Symarip,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül,
Pierre Henry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moss Icon,
The Doors,
Crispian St. Peters,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
Bob Dylan,
The Mummies,
The Sonics,
Todd Rundgren,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Underground Resistance,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-102,
Ultravox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tears for Fears,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Banda Bassotti,
Youth Brigade,
Kas Product,
Lee Hazlewood,
Angry Samoans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Flag,
Tommy Roe,
The Sound,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.