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 Bulgaria and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Juan Atkins to the dance 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Zero Boys,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
The Black Dice,
Echospace,
Lakeside,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
Rod Modell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
H. Thieme,
The Vogues,
Bob Dylan,
Lalann,
Colin Newman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monolake,
Funkadelic,
Black Flag,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brand Nubian,
Faraquet,
Black Sheep,
Desert Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mr. Review,
The Associates,
Ultra Naté,
Clear Light,
Hot Snakes,
Television,
Reuben Wilson,
The Offenders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Smog,
Rapeman,
KRS-One,
Whodini,
Jeff Lynne,
Joey Negro,
Cameo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barrington Levy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pylon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Slits,
Lightning Bolt,
Susan Cadogan,
The Velvet Underground,
Judy Mowatt,
Sex Pistols,
John Coltrane,
The Fortunes,
Negative Approach,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.