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 Peru and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Minnie Riperton to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
June Days,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radio Birdman,
Accadde A,
The Monochrome Set,
Masters at Work,
X-101,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yellowson,
The Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Vladislav Delay,
Heaven 17,
D'Angelo,
Amon Düül II,
John Foxx,
Don Cherry,
Sarah Menescal,
the Association,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Busters,
The Associates,
10cc,
The Modern Lovers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Anakelly,
Sällskapet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maleditus Sound,
Audionom,
KRS-One,
Lucky Dragons,
The Wake,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
Charles Mingus,
Steve Hackett,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
the Bar-Kays,
Adolescents,
Popol Vuh,
Barrington Levy,
Babytalk,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dave Clark Five,
These Immortal Souls,
Wire,
Public Enemy,
Whodini,
The Invisible,
Youth Brigade,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sonics,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Halsall,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.