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 Austria and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Henry Cow to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Newcleus,
The Mojo Men,
The New Christs,
Au Pairs,
The Zeros,
Marine Girls,
MC5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tim Buckley,
Wings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Stooges,
Patti Smith,
Heaven 17,
Archie Shepp,
Mars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T. Rex,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
Fugazi,
Guru Guru,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Babytalk,
Lyres,
Leonard Cohen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wally Richardson,
Massinfluence,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kayak,
The J.B.'s,
John Foxx,
Angry Samoans,
Clear Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville,
Ohio Players,
EPMD,
The Wake,
Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
a-ha,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Delta 5,
Eric Dolphy,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.