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 Uganda and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rap 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
The Leaves,
Drexciya,
Brothers Johnson,
Amazonics,
Kurtis Blow,
La Düsseldorf,
John Cale,
Cameo,
Eric Dolphy,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobbi Humphrey,
D'Angelo,
Kayak,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pussy Galore,
Terry Callier,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Das Ding,
Dual Sessions,
Leonard Cohen,
Slick Rick,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wolf Eyes,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mr. Review,
Model 500,
The Electric Prunes,
David McCallum,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Charles Mingus,
Radio Birdman,
Maurizio,
Arthur Verocai,
Maleditus Sound,
Japan,
Blossom Toes,
Q65,
Judy Mowatt,
Ronan,
Second Layer,
the Bar-Kays,
Thompson Twins,
the Association,
Little Man,
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Procol Harum,
Can,
Deakin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hoover,
Public Image Ltd.,
Oneida,
Oblivians,
Pylon,
Althea and Donna,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.