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 Uzbekistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 David McCallum to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
The American Breed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Procol Harum,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Section 25,
Yazoo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heaven 17,
The Happenings,
Mission of Burma,
Marmalade,
June Days,
the Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Beau Brummels,
Minutemen,
Gong,
Lindisfarne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scratch Acid,
The Grass Roots,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nirvana,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pierre Henry,
Young Marble Giants,
Urselle,
The Selecter,
Can,
The Kinks,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Green,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Graham Central Station,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jawbox,
John Lydon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tommy Roe,
Matthew Bourne,
Josef K,
Scientists,
The Dirtbombs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Babytalk,
The Stooges,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soft Machine,
Sight & Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
John Holt,
The Toasters,
Dual Sessions,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.