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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Main Source to the disco 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Animal Collective,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wolf Eyes,
Man Eating Sloth,
James White and The Blacks,
Ken Boothe,
DJ Style,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yellowson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Henry Cow,
The Remains,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
Goldenarms,
The Slits,
Wire,
The Tremeloes,
Joensuu 1685,
Sexual Harrassment,
June of 44,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
K-Klass,
Robert Hood,
Maurizio,
Mandrill,
Index,
LL Cool J,
Minnie Riperton,
Blossom Toes,
In Retrospect,
Sugar Minott,
Quando Quango,
The Fire Engines,
Marvin Gaye,
Fluxion,
Piero Umiliani,
Ice-T,
Eddi Front,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Selecter,
Black Sheep,
Pussy Galore,
the Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Vogues,
The Pop Group,
B.T. Express,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
Niagra,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.