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 Senegal and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Ultravox to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cluster,
Graham Central Station,
Mandrill,
Barbara Tucker,
Amon Düül,
kango's stein massive,
Stiv Bators,
Organ,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mission of Burma,
The Count Five,
The Five Americans,
Ludus,
Subhumans,
Zero Boys,
Minny Pops,
Quantec,
Gang of Four,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Smoke,
Monks,
Mr. Review,
New York Dolls,
Isaac Hayes,
Tommy Roe,
The Young Rascals,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ornette Coleman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soft Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quadrant,
E-Dancer,
Panda Bear,
Letta Mbulu,
the Swans,
Chris Corsano,
Crispian St. Peters,
Archie Shepp,
Liliput,
Glenn Branca,
The Wake,
ABBA,
Althea and Donna,
Nirvana,
The Barracudas,
Rufus Thomas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Doors,
The Associates,
Sun City Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
Laurel Aitken,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.