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 Turkmenistan and from Spokane.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet 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 Suburban Knight to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
Piero Umiliani,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Don Cherry,
Andrew Hill,
The Neon Judgement,
The Martian,
Judy Mowatt,
The Slackers,
The Grass Roots,
Cluster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gories,
Cymande,
Crash Course in Science,
Blossom Toes,
Crispy Ambulance,
MDC,
Fat Boys,
Thompson Twins,
China Crisis,
Alton Ellis,
Chris Corsano,
FM Einheit,
Vladislav Delay,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Hot Snakes,
DNA,
Minny Pops,
Roxette,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dennis Brown,
Rekid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mandrill,
Silicon Teens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
JFA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marvin Gaye,
Neu!,
New Order,
Interpol,
Joensuu 1685,
Fluxion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lalann,
Jacob Miller,
Pharoah Sanders,
Swans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Goldenarms,
Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thee Headcoats,
Clear Light,
Mr. Review,
Parry Music,
Unrelated Segments,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.