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 Armenia and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Los Fastidios to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Erykah Badu,
The Gories,
Nico,
Hasil Adkins,
The Velvet Underground,
T. Rex,
The Golliwogs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Excepter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Wyatt,
Man Parrish,
David McCallum,
The Smoke,
Johnny Clarke,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roxette,
Michelle Simonal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Infiniti,
New Age Steppers,
The Dead C,
Young Marble Giants,
Nik Kershaw,
The Leaves,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Zero Boys,
The Star Department,
Crooked Eye,
Jawbox,
Wally Richardson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
One Last Wish,
Loose Ends,
Quantec,
Alison Limerick,
Mark Hollis,
Minor Threat,
Surgeon,
the Fania All-Stars,
New York Dolls,
Blake Baxter,
John Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Axelrod,
Joyce Sims,
Scott Walker,
Agent Orange,
Roxy Music,
Franke,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Germs,
Charles Mingus,
The Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.