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 Poland and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum 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 Eurythmics to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Trojans,
Iggy Pop,
The Fuzztones,
Fugazi,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Y Pants,
Easy Going,
Reagan Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hashim,
Isaac Hayes,
Dead Boys,
Intrusion,
a-ha,
Minutemen,
The Fugs,
The Stooges,
Idris Muhammad,
ABC,
Bill Near,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Pretty Things,
The Young Rascals,
EPMD,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dead C,
Desert Stars,
The Seeds,
Subhumans,
Smog,
Rites of Spring,
Henry Cow,
Grey Daturas,
Wings,
The Fortunes,
Judy Mowatt,
John Lydon,
The Modern Lovers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Josef K,
Sam Rivers,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sparks,
The Real Kids,
JFA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Surgeon,
Television,
Vladislav Delay,
Severed Heads,
Joe Smooth,
Kaleidoscope,
Yaz,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.