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 Paraguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Gabor Szabo,
James White and The Blacks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Selecter,
The Vogues,
X-Ray Spex,
Nils Olav,
Gang Green,
Technova,
Wasted Youth,
Guru Guru,
Slick Rick,
ABBA,
Franke,
The Index,
Scan 7,
DJ Sneak,
June of 44,
Brass Construction,
Hoover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Skriet,
The Kinks,
Marmalade,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Excepter,
Au Pairs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Offenders,
Panda Bear,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Smoke,
Wally Richardson,
Moebius,
Lakeside,
Bill Wells,
Bob Dylan,
Porter Ricks,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dark Day,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Machine,
Interpol,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick Morgan,
Quantec,
H. Thieme,
The Black Dice,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Normal,
Sun City Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Index,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.