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 Bahamas and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Shadows of Knight to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim 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?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jandek,
Joyce Sims,
Procol Harum,
Quadrant,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
The Walker Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
Steve Hackett,
Albert Ayler,
Monks,
The Fall,
The Blues Magoos,
Das Ding,
Fad Gadget,
Brick,
Malaria!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Qualms,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Toasters,
Model 500,
Siglo XX,
MC5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soulsonic Force,
The Victims,
Panda Bear,
Suicide,
Cheater Slicks,
Lucky Dragons,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eve St. Jones,
Sandy B,
DJ Sneak,
Wolf Eyes,
The Count Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Fat Boys,
Ituana,
The Zeros,
Oblivians,
Cymande,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slackers,
Pagans,
F. McDonald,
Sonic Youth,
The Fortunes,
The Human League,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heaven 17,
Banda Bassotti,
The Names,
World's Most,
The J.B.'s,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.