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 Afghanistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Michael McDonald 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 Gories to the funk 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
China Crisis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
Roger Hodgson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jimmy McGriff,
Los Fastidios,
Erykah Badu,
The Golliwogs,
The Kinks,
The Techniques,
Lalo Schifrin,
Whodini,
Angry Samoans,
The Names,
Au Pairs,
The Music Machine,
Technova,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oneida,
Peter & Gordon,
Joey Negro,
Joe Finger,
Delta 5,
Newcleus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Spandau Ballet,
The Barracudas,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-Ray Spex,
Television,
Cymande,
Symarip,
Joensuu 1685,
Sex Pistols,
Brass Construction,
Sandy B,
Hoover,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skaos,
Mark Hollis,
Roxy Music,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eurythmics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare,
Q and Not U,
Junior Murvin,
Jeff Lynne,
The Misunderstood,
The Leaves,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fugs,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Durutti Column,
The Zeros,
Lower 48,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.