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 Guyana and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Leonard Cohen to the punk 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Subhumans,
Ice-T,
Nico,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Görl,
Henry Cow,
Sugar Minott,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tubeway Army,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
8 Eyed Spy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
World's Most,
ABC,
Yellowson,
Lucky Dragons,
Silicon Teens,
Minutemen,
The Music Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
Jacob Miller,
The Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Graham Central Station,
Roger Hodgson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New York Dolls,
Gang of Four,
La Düsseldorf,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry's Kids,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Hood,
Yaz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Das Ding,
Slick Rick,
Bill Near,
The Human League,
Sun City Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Royal Trux,
LL Cool J,
Sällskapet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gong,
Animal Collective,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mo-Dettes,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.