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 Guinea-Bissau and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neon Judgement to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Groovy Waters,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boz Scaggs,
Supertramp,
Dead Boys,
Basic Channel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare,
Don Cherry,
Scan 7,
The Saints,
Albert Ayler,
Massinfluence,
Cluster,
Todd Terry,
The Kinks,
Rekid,
The Index,
Khruangbin,
Mad Mike,
Faraquet,
The Cramps,
The Names,
Josef K,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Toni Rubio,
Sun City Girls,
Faust,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Osbourne,
James White and The Blacks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Prince Buster,
Grauzone,
Ossler,
Donny Hathaway,
Sixth Finger,
F. McDonald,
Henry Cow,
The Smoke,
Bad Manners,
Vladislav Delay,
Ronnie Foster,
Marmalade,
Au Pairs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Trojans,
Rufus Thomas,
Heaven 17,
Flash Fearless,
Aural Exciters,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
the Bar-Kays,
The Red Krayola,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bill Wells,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.