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 Bahamas and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 The Dead C to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aloha Tigers,
LL Cool J,
Oneida,
Shoche,
Kenny Larkin,
Charles Mingus,
KRS-One,
Derrick Morgan,
Agent Orange,
Yaz,
Alison Limerick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Archie Shepp,
The Seeds,
Black Flag,
Quadrant,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Near,
Fela Kuti,
Royal Trux,
Boz Scaggs,
Rufus Thomas,
Flipper,
The Offenders,
Black Bananas,
Sandy B,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
MDC,
Howard Jones,
Chrome,
Supertramp,
Peter and Kerry,
Vainqueur,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Sherman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dual Sessions,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Angels of Light,
Marc Almond,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bronski Beat,
John Cale,
Jawbox,
Ossler,
Connie Case,
Aaron Thompson,
Porter Ricks,
Pagans,
The Cowsills,
Davy DMX,
Nirvana,
Dawn Penn,
48th St. Collective,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.